



















° z ^ & r 

° c3 ^ - 



■%. t? ,.\^. V 

%o< .* 

.., /°~ ; JW-\^«» - 
■ ■ • /. 



•a -ai ^ ~ 

& C^ % 


* X , \ v OU 

^ *0 A ^ 


* <1 


a> (0 

' - ^ 

». - #■ .*■ 

k ® <SS\\sc-W//J? cP <\ V a> 

- (S^IIIIIIIIIIIIE^ O cS y*V .j 

^ V^UP^ % •, 

, o **’ 1 <# 

*<- ^ cP v ' , 

*- <ri i*, ^. 0 < 

z 




» ^ ^ o 

■* .# o j * 




■*. ^ 

u t> <s v 



^ «X* 




/ < ^ // - J * * S S </ s * * ^ * 




* * 
(V . s * * r . V* 


c© 

•a"*' fO 

x ^ v #’ C'o 

^ . V * o. 9^ ^ \> v 

°, % & - 





rcy s s ^ ^ v. 


^ 0 * 


.’ < 5 ? "%. -. 

y- ,(# ^ V 

O y s A° ^ - 

cPV 4 ”'* <i 



* v> 



* ^ ^ ^^MWaT o^ ; »» - • > 

1 ‘<r;V # “' /*-,V">’V< 



. ,* # ^ % 

0 °‘ 

* ^ 



* ^ 9* ° 

^ •* <L^ 

-* o?v o 

. V 5 O, 


: - 

» "So » 

-4 <1 ^ wz, „ ^ 

\V ,. 0 °q, -o.I- ^ 
o. V >?. v 0 a v 



X 


























z 

o 



' s _\y 

** 

^ \ A rt : 




<■ ▼»■' 

* << 




o cS A. -* 

♦ ^ ^ % 

rx v ■%, 


*. ^p 

l\ "%o ( 



* fv^ ^ °j ** o? 

* \^ C ^ ,y °^’'' i \/ 9 ^ * y o , X ^ 

\> * Y * 0 a ^ v <A * 0 /• ^ \> 

tf- r W>fc\ %, > -’%, A * ^ 

-, cP °V 


“*"> G ^“^^**' S > & S 

V A ^ %<> v 


* °^ °o 1 /^*AF * \V 

^ <fe * 

V * 0 A ^ V * * * ° A ^ 





* 



* s s cF s - * , <> 

r'J s s ^ /y *<p 



s s 

^ rCF s ^ 41 

■A rfb V> *v 

: * 

* ^ °^ *°y(7w$ ’ $ °^ 


* V * - 0 , % J °-^ V< - 0 , \ ' 0 * ‘ V 

* « % A ;Wa\V - 



V -tr n 


o cS A. - 1 

. ^ ,* %■ •*> ~ V , y™. 

<-"/„„ s' jG <* "' „ „ o # <■ V. .< 

*,% 0 °' v^/^i 0 °' 

* - °* ^ ^ '\ l enb v A <{> 

N \ "’ A V v ** ** N> *.i*o 

*■ ^ * <£. <-. V . «. 53 * ^v<b A. *. 



O cS Y^> 

Ao^ ^A 




\> * ^ * o / ^U 


* . 


V * i * o / \> ^ Y d 0 
































/ 



NORTH VIEW OF WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 



















































































































































































































































































f 


THE 



COMPANION 


TO 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY; 


CONTAINING 


AN ACCURATE HISTORY OF THIS VENERABLE BUILDING; A DE- 
SCRIPTION OF ITS ANTIQUITIES AfrD ARCHITECTURAL BEAU¬ 
TIES; A CRITICAL ACCOUNT OF THE VARIOUS WORKS OF ART 
IT CONTAINS; FULL PARTICULARS 6 f THE CORONATION CERE¬ 
MONIES PERFORMED WITHIN ITS WALLS; AND MEMOIRS OF 
ALL THE EMINENT POETS WHO HAVE MONUMENTS ERECTED 
TO THEIR MEMORY IN THE EDIFICE. 


— 4 *— 


BY J. S. DALTON. 


> > -) ■> > 

> > ) 

> ) ) i ) 


+ > > ' A > > , 

* © ■* d o v ' > 

) > :> > *9 > 5 ' )> ) 

) )> f >> > 

>>>})>> ) ) -> ) J ) ) 


) 7 

. > ) 

J > 3 J 


OO 1 
> V \ y 


-> ) 

I i 
) > ] 
) ■» 


1 ) 



fionDon: 

DARTON AND CLARK, HOLBORN HILL. 



V 


l 





\ 


\ 



'ov 







JOHN ALLISTON, ESQ. 


MASTER OF THE MERCHANT TAILORS’ COMPANY, 
GOVERNOR OF CHRIST’S HOSPITAL, 

&c., &c., &c. 

—#— 


SIR, 

The lively interest you take in everything connected with the 
preservation of the ancient Institutions of this country, induces 
me to hope, that the attempt I have made in this work, to 
present in a popular form an account of the beauties and anti¬ 
quities of the most venerable ecclesiastical edifice in the king¬ 
dom, will meet with your approbation. 

Should the work which I have now the honor of dedicating 
to you, be the means of even slightly contributing to your 
amusement, it will amply recompense me for any trouble I 
may have taken in preparing it, as it will be a slight return for 
the kindness, for which I am, 

Your obliged, 

And faithful Servant, 


JOHN S. DALTON. 


I 








CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER I. 

Foundation of the Abbey—Ancient Legend respecting it—Legal 
Rights of the Monks in consequence—Cause of King Edgar 
Endowing the Abbey—Rebuilt by Edward the Confessor—Re¬ 
lics belonging to it; and Superstitious Reverence paid them. 

CHAPTER II. 

Abbey again rebuilt—Translation of St. Edward’s remains— 
Time of the Completion of different parts of the Building— 
Mode of obtaining Workmen—Wages paid them—Remaining 
portion of the Building Erected—Henry the Seventh’s Chapel 
begun—Injuries committed by Soldiers of the Commonwealth— 
Repaired by Sir Christopher Wren and Mr. Wyatt. 

CHAPTER III. 

Coronations of different Sovereigns_Crowning of Henry the 

Second’s Son.—Funerals of various Monarchs, and of Oliver 
Cromwell.—Establishment of Caxton’s Priuting-Press_Mu¬ 

sical Celebration of Handel’s Birth.—Reflections on concluding 
the History of the Abbey. 

CHAPTER IV. 

The Exterior of the Building.—Description of the North Side 
and Transcept, by a writer a century ago—Western Towers— 
Curious manner in which -the South Side is supported—Henry 
the Seventh’s Chapel. 


CHAPTER V. 

The Sanctuary —Origin of-the- Custom—Fines formerly inflicted 
for atrocious Crimes—Sanctuary at Durham—The one at West¬ 
minster—Its sacred character, and the first violation of it— 
Infamy of Sanctuaries in later years—Mode taken to suppress 
them. 

CHAPTER YI. 

The Interior of the Abbey. —General remarks on the Monu¬ 
ments—Poet’s Corner—Chapels of St. Benedict, St. Edmund, 
St. Nicholas—Curiosities and Monuments contained in them. 

CHAPTER VII. 

Henry the Seventh’s Chapel. —Interior of the Chapel—The 
Pavement—The Stalls—Curious Carvings on the Seats—The 
Windows—Statues in the Chapel—The Roof—Henry the 
Seventh’s Tomb—Monuments in the Aisles. 






IV 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

Chapef of St. Paul—Watt’s Monument—St. Edward the Confes¬ 
sor’s Chapel—Pavement and Screen—Curious Paintings—The 
Chantry—Henry the Seventh’s Tomb and Armour—Shrine of 
St. Edward — Other Tombs of Royal Persons—The Stained 
Windows. 

CHAPTER IX. 

The Coronation Chair and Fatal Stone—Description and History 
of the Chair—Prophetic or Fatal Stone—Tradition respecting 
it—Brought from Scotland by Edward I.—Reverence paid to it 
by the People of Scotland. 

CHAPTER X. 

Curious Tombs and Antiquities in the Chapels of St. Erasmus— 
Abbot Islip—St. John, St. Andrew, and St. Michael. 

CHAPTER XI. 

A critical description of the Monuments in the North and South 
aisles, and West end of the nave.—Appearance of the Abbey 
from this part.—Monuments in the North-west aisle. 

CHAPTER XII. 

The Choir—Description of the Screen—The Curious Mosaic 
Pavement—The Stalls, Altar, and Pulpit—Monuments on the 
Screen, and in the North Aisle. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Monuments in the North Transcept,—with remarks on the gene¬ 
ral character of those erected in the Abbey. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Earliest record of the Coronation Ceremony—Introductions of 
Forms—The Anointing—The Ampulla—Description of the Re¬ 
galia—The Imperial Crown and Crown of State—The Ring— 
The Queen’s Ring—The Orb—The Sceptre. 

CHAPTER XV. 

Fitting up of the Abbey for the Coronation—The Ceremony—The 
Recognition—The Oblations—The Coronation Oath—The 
Anointing—The Investing—The Crowning, and the Homage of 
the Peers. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Magnificence of Ancient Coronations—Henry the Third’s Queen 
—The office of Champion—The form of giving the Challenge at 
the Coronation Feast. 


INTRODUCTION. 


— 4 1 — 

Of the numerous public buildings in this metropolis there 
are none of greater importance, or more interesting to the 
visitor, whether he visit it for the purpose of antiquarian re¬ 
search, or merely to gratifiy a laudable curiosity, than 
Westminster Abbey. It is one of the most ancient 
edifices in the kingdom, and has been connected, either 
directly or indirectly, with all the great changes, religious, 
political, and social, that have taken place in the character 
and manners of the people of this country during the last 
five centuries. It has been within the Abbey that the im¬ 
posing ceremonies connected with the Coronations of all 
the Sovereigns who have reigned since the conquest have 
been performed ; and the funeral obsequies of not a few of 
them have likewise been celebrated in the Abbey. It is 
the place where the first printing press was set up, and 
from whence the first printed book ever published in this 
country was issued; it has been a place of refuge for 
kings and princes in times of trouble ; and it has suffered 
with them from the disorders of rebellion, and been en¬ 
riched in times of national prosperity. From these cir¬ 
cumstances it cannot fail of being highly interesting to the 
visitor. But it has perhaps a still stronger claim on his 
attention, from its being the place in which are contained 
the monuments of the greatest men this country has pro¬ 
duced, and whose glorious names must ever excite the 
warmest feelings of patriotism in the breast of every Eng¬ 
lishman who feels an attachment to his country. In 
Westminster Abbey we have the monuments of our most 
profound philosophers—our acutest metaphysicians—our 
sweetest poets—the most eminent learned men who have 
enlightened and enriched us by their labours—and many of. 

B 





11 


INTRODUCTION. 


the bravest warriors who have defended the liberties of our 
country and guarded her prosperity. If we look around 
we perceive the names of such a glaxity of genuis and 
learning as cannot be found assembled on any other spot 
on earth. The contemplation of these monuments must 
be attended with pleasure, and we trust the work now of¬ 
fered to the reader will tend to make it more enduring. “ I 
know,” says Addison, “ that entertainments of this nature 
are apt to raise dark and dismal thoughts in timerous 
minds and gloomy imaginations ; but for my own part, 
though I am always serious, I do not know what it is to 
be melancholy ; and can therefore take a view of nature in 
her dark and solemn scenes with the same pleasure as in 
her most gay and delightful ones. By this means I can 
improve myself with those objects which others consider 
with terror. When I look upon the tombs of the great, 
every emotion of envy dies in me; when I read the 
epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out; 
when I meet with the grief of parents upon a tombstone, my 
heart melts with compassion ; when I see the tombs of the 
parents themselves, I consider the vanity of grieving for 
those whom we must quickly follow ; when I see kings ly¬ 
ing by those who deposed them—when I consider rival 
wits placed side by side, or the holy men that divided the 
world with their contests and disputes, I reflect with sorrow 
and astonishment on the bitter competitions, factions, and 
debates of mankind. When I read the several dates of the 
tombs, of some that died yesterday, and some six hundred 
years ago, I consider that great day when we shall all of us 
be cotemporaries, and make our appearance together.” 

Independent of the pleasing associations connected with 
the Abbey, from such circumstances as the foregoing, it 
cannot fail to be exceedingly interesting to the visitor of 
taste, from its being a magnificent speciment of architec¬ 
tural beauty in the Gothic style. In this respect it is un¬ 
rivalled, and has been justly characterized as “ the wonder 
of the world.” 

It is somewhat surprising, considering the attraction the 
Abbey offers to the visitor, that no popular work has yet 


INTRODUCTION. 


Ill 


appeared which, while it pointed out the principal objects 
of interest that might be seen on a cursory view of the 
Abbey, should direct the attention to some of the his¬ 
torical events connected with many of the monuments, &c. 
and thus “ through the eye instruct the mind.” As no 
book of this kind has yet been published, and as it is 
thought such a one cannot fail to meet with public appro¬ 
bation, particularly at a time when Westminster Abbey is 
about to become the interesting scene of her Majesty’s coro¬ 
nation, the following attempt to supply the deficiency is 
submitted to the public. 

In order to show the connection of the Abbey with the 
changes that have taken place in society since its erection, 
an historical account is given in the first chapters of the 
work, of the various important events that have occurred 
in which it has been concerned. To render this portion in¬ 
teresting as well as instructive, the manners and customs 
of the people at the time these events happened have been 
given, and any curious information bearing upon this point 
has been collected with care. Thus, besides an historical 
account of the Abbey, the reader will to a certain extent 
become acquainted with the history of the country also. 

The historical description forms the first portion of the 
work ; the second is devoted to a description of the beau¬ 
ties and antiquities of the Abbey. Under this head will be 
found an account of all that is most interesting as speci¬ 
mens of the skill of the sculptor, or the art of the architect 
and beautifier. As some of the finest specimens of monu¬ 
mental sculpture are also to be found here, this portion of 
the book will probably not be the least interesting ; and in 
order that as few of the beauties as possible should escape 
the notice of the visitor, the criticisms of judges, qualified 
to pronounce judgment on works of art, are interspersed, 
which it is hoped will give a degree of interest to many of 
the monuments that otherwise would not be felt. 

The remaining portion of the book is occupied in giving 
a slight sketch of some of the principal persons whose mo¬ 
numents are placed within the sacred edifice. In arranging 
the materials for these memoirs care has been taken to col- 

b 2 


IV 


INTRODUCTION. 


lect as many facts and anecdotes as possible, to illustrate 
the state of the people of this country at the time the in¬ 
dividual lived whose biography is given, and thus not 
merely to exhibit his character, but that of the people also. 
By this means the sketches, though not long of themselves, 
bear a certain relation to each other which it is hoped will 
give them an additional interest. As far as practicable, 
also, the poets have their peculiar styles illustrated, by ex¬ 
tracts from their works ; and on the whole, notwithstanding 
the biographies are necessarily brief memorials of the great 
men’s lives they record, yet they contain all the more im¬ 
portant events in which the subjects of them were engaged, 
and offer bright examples for the imitation of both young 
and old. 

Thus, to a certain extent at least, the public is provided 
with a book, which, besides containing all that can be re¬ 
quired by the visitor when passing round the Abbey, offers 
matter for his consideration relating to the objects he has 
reviewed, that cannot fail to give them an additional degree 
of interest. The illustrations to the work will also recal 
them to his recollection at a future time, as they now beau¬ 
tifully illustrate the letter-press description. 

As this work is intended merely as a popular Guide to 
the Abbey, in the way described, and has no pretensions to 
rank with the very elaborate antiquarian treatises that 
have been published on the subject, it is hoped that any 
few errors of description that may be found in it will be 
treated with indulgence, and that the work on the whole 
will not be deemed unsatisfactory, as a description of one 
of the finest Abbeys in the kingdom. 



COMPANION 


TO 

WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


w\i‘^wy J SAA/VV AAA/VV A<'/^vV / <\A.V\A? 


CHAPTER I. 

Foundation of the Abbey.—Ancient Legend respecting; it.—Legal 

Rights of the Monks in consequence_Cause of King Edgar 

Endowing the Abbey_Rebuilt by Edward the Confessor_ 

Relics belonging to it; and Superstitious Reverence paid them. 

The time when Westminster Abbey was founded is 
involved in much obscurity. Previous to the conversion 
of the Saxons, who occupied this country in the sixth 
century, the period when Christianity was introduced, a 
temple, dedicated to Apollo, one of the heathen gods of our 
ancestors, stood on the same spot as the present Abbey. 
Pope Gregory having however sent over missionaries, and 
converted the people from Paganism to Christianity, this 
temple was pulled down, and a church erected in its stead. 
The place on which it stood was called Thorny Island, or 
the Island of Thorns, from its being a piece of marsh land, 
surrounded by the river Thames, and overspread with 
thorns. The River was not at that day as it is now, con¬ 
fined within a certain channel, but at high tide used fre¬ 
quently to inundate the surrounding land for a considerable 
distance on either side of its banks ; and this little island of 
thorns was the only spot adjacent that remained uncovered 
by the water. From the roof of the northern tower of the 
Abbey, the eye may even now very distinctly trace this 


'8 


COMPANION TO 


Island. Following the winding of the Thames round 
Milbank we perceive it ends in a marsh, filled with reeds 
and aquatic plants, at the extremity of what used to be 
called the Ranelagh Gardens, a place of public amusement 
of much celebrity, a few years ago. From that place to 
Chelsea Waterworks, the land is equally low and wet, 
exclusive of the creek or canal for barges. This brings the 
eye almost to the gates of St. James’s Palace, where a valley 
nearly in a line with the marsh contains the canal. From 
this description, the island ajrpears to have been of an 
angular form. 

At the present day the condition of the country is so 
very different, that we can hardly form a just idea of the 
difficulties which must have attended the erection of a church 
on such a spot as Thorny Island ; and we need not be 
surprised, therefore, that the superstitious and ignorant 
people of those days endeavoured to account for the manner 
in which these difficulties had been overcome, by supposing 
that Divine agency had been employed. It was about the 
year 601 that Sebert, who was King of the East Saxons, 
and had been converted to Christianity, wishing to show 
the sincerity of his faith, founded a church on Thorny 
Island, on the ruins of an heathen temple that had been 
thrown down by an earthquake, from which it would appear 
that formerly this country was subject to the visitation of 
natural convulsions of this kind. King Sebert dedicated his 
church to St. Peter, and it was to have been consecrated 
by the Bishop Miletus. The monkish writers, however, 
assert that this was prevented by the following miraculous 
event. St. Peter resolved to consecrate the church in person, 
and accordingly descended with a host of heavenly cho¬ 
risters on the Surrey side of the river, one stormy night, 
and prevailed on Edric, a poor fisherman, to row him over 
to the island, when he performed the ceremony of consecra¬ 
tion, amidst a grand chorus of heavenly music, and a 
glorious appearance of heavenly light. The fisherman then 
conveyed the saint safely back, who directed him to inform 
the bishop what he had seen, and, as a proof, presented 
him with the droppings of the wax candles by which the 


WESTMINSTER AEP.EY. 


i) 

fisherman had seen the church illuminated. The saint also 
directed him to fling out his nets, and rewarded him with 
a miraculous draught of salmon, and at the same time pro¬ 
mised him that neither he nor his successors should ever 
want plenty of salmon for their nets, provided they presented 
a tenth of what they took to the priests of the new church. 

It is truly astonishing how such absurdity as this could 
obtain credit from men enjoying the blessings of reason, 
but such was the case, and for many centuries afterwards 
a tenth of the fishermen’s produce was scrupulously paid to 
the church ; on the faith of this legend, even so late as the 
year 1231, the monks of Westminster Abbey brought an 
action against the minister of Rotherhithe, and compelled 
him to give them one-half of the tithe of all salmon caught 
in his parish ! The fisherman, however, had certain privi¬ 
leges granted to him that partially compensated for the loss 
of his fish. “ He had a right to sit at the same table with 
the prior; and he might demand of the cellarman ale ami 
bread ; the cellarman in return might take of the fishes 
tail as much as he could, with four fingers and his thumb 
erect.” From such ridiculous mummery and barbarous 
practices the reformation has in a great measure relieved 
us ; but such fabulous stories as this, are often the only 
records of the primitive monasteries and their usages, as it 
was generally the interest of the monks, at that time, to 
keep the people in ignorance of the truth. 

After the death of Sebert, the founder of the abbey, his 
sons, who succeeded him, relapsed into Paganism, and 
renounced the Christian faith; and shortly after this the 
Danes, who were also heathens, having invaded this 
country, the church was entirely destroyed. Things con¬ 
tinued thus till the accession of Edgar to the English 
throne. Several eminent and religious kings had reigned 
in the interum, of whom Alfred might be mentioned as an 
illustrious example ; but, in consequence of the unceasing 
wars in which they were engaged, both with their own 
nobles, as well as with foreign enemies, few opportunities 
occurred for the domestic improvement of the country. 
Edgar, however, having been placed on the throne almost 



10 


COMPANION TO 


entirely through the influence of the monks and their chief,. 
Dunstan, rewarded their exertions on his behalf by pre¬ 
senting many rich gifts to the church, and founding mo- 
nastries. At the suggestion of Dunstan he again rebuilt 
the church on the site of the present Abbey, and appropri¬ 
ating it to the order of St. Benedict, endowed it with many 
valuable possessions. It may be mentioned that such was 
the course generally adopted by cruel and oppressive men 
of that time, as a propitiation for the crimes they com¬ 
mitted. The clergy benefited by such proceedings, and 
hence they encouraged, rather than repressed them. A 
man would then frequently gratify his revenge by commit¬ 
ting murder, knowing that if he could escape punishment 
from the* law, which was not very difficult for a rich and 
powerful man at that period, that he could purchase abso¬ 
lution from the monks, by liberally bestowing on them 
rich gifts and possessions of land. And it was the law, 
that whatever was given to the church, could never be taken 
from it again. This was the cause of its amassing such 
immense wealth, that at the time of the dissolution of the 
monasteries, in the reign of Henry VIII., it is said their 
annual receipts were at least a twentieth of the whole 
national income. The foundation of the church bv Edgar, 
it is not improbable, was in consequence of the murder of 
his former friend and favourite, Ethelwald, either by the 
king’s own hand, or by his command. The circumstances 
attending this transaction are curious. Edgar, it is said, 
having heard that the Earl of Devonshire was possessed of 
a daughter of surpassing beauty, sent his favourite, Ethel¬ 
wald, to see the lady, and ascertain if such was the fact, 
previous to his making proposals to her father for marriage. 
Ethelwald accordingly obeyed the king’s directions, but 
was so struck by the beauty of the lady, who was named 
Elfrida, that he wooed her himself, obtained her father’s 
consent, and married her privately. Fearing, however, 
the displeasure of the king, he kept his marriage secret, 
and represented to Edgar that the lady was far from being 
the beautiful woman common report had described her. 
He shortly afterwards solicited the king’s permission to 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


11 


espouse her himself, and having obtained it, the king- 
suspecting no fraud, they were publicly married with 
great ceremony in the country. Ethelwald studiously 
kept his wife from court, lest her beauty should attract the 
attention of the king, and he become aware of the deceit 
that had been practised on him ; but by some means he 
became acquainted with the fact, and resolved to be re¬ 
venged. Shortly afterwards he took occasion to visit that 
part of the country where Elfrida resided, and desired 
Ethelwald, who accompanied him, to introduce him to her. 
The favourite in vain attempted to prevent the catastrophe 
he foresaw; he could only obtain permission to ride on 
before and inform his wife of the king’s approach. He did 
so, and at the same time confessed the deceit he had prac¬ 
tised in order to make her his wife. He intreated her to 
conceal her beauty as much as possible from Edgar, to pre¬ 
serve him from the punishment he would otherwise cer¬ 
tainly incur, and Elfrida promised obedience ; but being 
naturally an ambitious, cruel woman, as was afterwards 
proved by her directing the assassination of her son-in-law, 
Edward the Martyr, in order to promote the succession of 
her son, Ethelred, she adopted every means to increase her 
attractions, in order to obtain the affections of Edgar. In 
this she succeeded, and the king, in order to remove the 
only obstacle that stood between him and the gratification 
of his passion, procured, if he did not actually perpetrate, 
the murder of her husband, Ethelwald, while on a journey 
into Northumberland. Elfrida was then called to court, 
and married to the king. As an atonement for this crime, 
and to procure absolution from the church, Edgar founded 
several monasteries, amongst which was the one on Thorny 
Island, the Abbey of Westminster. 

Till the time of Edward, commonly called the Confessor, 
little more was done to improve the Abbey that calls for 
particular notice; but this monarch, who was as entirely 
under the direction of the monks as any who had pro¬ 
ceeded him, resolved to show his veneration for the church 
by erecting an abbey that should be both an evidence of 
his piety, and of his architectural taste. The immediate 


12 


COMPANION TO 


cause of his undertaking the work, however, was his having 
been absolved from a rash vow by Pope Lee the IX., on 
condition of his appropriating one-tenth of his property in 
“ gold, silver, cattle, and all other possessions,” for the re¬ 
building of the Abbey. It was commenced in 1049, and 
finished about the year 1065, in a magnificent manner, as 
we may easily believe, considering that not only one-tenth 
of the whole of the king’s income was devoted to the work, 
but also, that the nobles vied with each other in forwarding 
so grand an undertaking. It was the first Abbey built in 
the form of a cross, those previously erected having been 
built without transcepts. After this period, all abbeys 
and cathedrals were built in the form of a cross. The 
Abbey, when finished, was munificently endowed by the 
king and nobles, and was now one of the finest and richest 
in the kingdom. An important source of its revenue was 
the donations of devotees who visited, the shrine; and a 
considerable sum was derived from the exhibition of the 
reliques that the monks had under their care. The monkish 
writers declare that amongst those reliques were part of the 
manger in which our Saviour was born : the frankincense 
offered to him by the Eastern Magi : a splinter of the 
table from which the last supper was taken : a crust of the 
bread that he blest: a slab of the wall of the prison in 
which he was confined : a shred of his undivided garment: 
fragments of the sponge dipped in hyssop which he sucked: 
the scourge with which he was tortured: and the lance by 
which his side was pierced ! 

The monkish legends also state that the pious Edward, 
the Confessor, presented to the church a portion of the 
milk, and some of the hair of the Virgin Mary : the beard 
of St. Peter: and half a jaw and three teeth of St. Anas¬ 
tasia! Whence he could possibly obtain these won¬ 
derful reliques, the legends do not think proper to inform 
us, and the people of those times were not so scrupulous as 
to require very strong proof; the word of the monks was 
all-sufficient. 

At a subsequent period Henry III., presented a still 
more imposing relic, being, says an old chronicler, no less 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


13 


than a precious vessel which had been sent him from the 
Holy Land, and was attested to inclose some of the genuine 
blood of our Saviour, which had trickled from his wounds 
at the crucifixion. The absurdities that attended the pre¬ 
sentation of this “wondrous relic” to the Abbey, have 
been minutely recorded in history, and we quote a portion 
for the purpose of showing to what an extent superstition 
and absurdity could be carried under the garb of religious 
reverence. “ Several weeks before the ceremony,” says 
Matthew Paris, “ the king summoned his chief subjects to 
meet him at Westminster, that they might hear the most 
joyful news of a holy benefaction recently bestowed on the 
English from heaven. On the day appointed the great 
men assembled, and were informed in reply to their inqui¬ 
ries, that the king had received of the knights templars 
and hospitallers, a beautiful chrystalline vase, containing a 
portion of the blood of our Saviour, which he had shed on 
the cross for the salvation of mankind ; the genuineness of 
the relic being testified under the seals of the Patriarch 
Robert of Jerusalem, and the archbishops, bishops, abbots, 
and other prelates of the Holy Land! The king then 
commanded that all the priests of London, habited in 
costly dresses, and bearing standards, crosses, and lighted 
tapers, should early in the morning of St. Edward’s day, 
the 3d Oct. 1247, reverently meet at St. Pauls. Thither 
the king himself came, and with the utmost veneration 
receiving the vase, with the treasure of Christ’s blood, 
already mentioned, he bore it openly before him (preceded 
by the richly dressed priests), walking slowly in a humble 
garb, and without stopping, to the church of Westminster. 
He held the vase with both hands, keeping his eyes fixed 
on the vessel, or looking up to heaven, whilst proceeding 
along the dirty and uneven road. But a pall was held 
over him on four spears, and two persons supported his 
arms lest the fatigue should be too great for him. Near 
the gate of the Bishop of Durham’s hall, in the Strand, he 
was met by the members of the Convent of Westminster, 
with the bishops, abbots, and monks singing and rejoicing, 
, with tears, in the holy spirit, who accompanied the proces- 


14 


COMPANION TO 


sion to the church, which could scarcely contain the assem¬ 
bled multitude. The king, untired, carried the vase round 
the palace and the monastry, and then delivered it, as an 
invaluable present, to the church of St. Peter, and the 
brethren administering therein to the honour of God.” 


CHAPTER II. 

Abbey again Rebuilt.—Translation of St. Edward’s remains_ 

Time of the Completion of different parts of the Building.— 

Mode of obtaining Workmen.—Wages paid them_Remaining 

portion of the Building Erected,—Henry the Seventh’s Chapel 
begun.—Injuries committed by Soldiers of the Commonwealth. 
—Repaired by Sir Christopher Wren and Mr. Wyatt. 

In the year 1220, Henry the III. laid the first stone of 
a new chapel in honour of the Virgin Mary, but little was 
done till the year 1245, when the king resolved entirely to 
rebuild the Abbey. This was accomplished in a splendid 
manner. The expense incurred during the years 1245 
and 1261, on the chapel, for the Virgin alone, amounted to 
upwards of 29,605 1. of our money. 

Mr. Hallam, in his History of Europe during the middle 
ages, states, that “ we may consider any given sum under 
Henry III., as equivalent in general command over com¬ 
modities, to about twenty-four, or twenty-five times their 
nominal value at present;’’ we can therefore easily ima¬ 
gine how great a sum was the amount expended on the 
Abbey at that period. The whole of the Abbey was not 
completed during the life of Henry III., but when the 
chapel in honour of the Virgin Mary was finished, he re¬ 
solved to remove to it the remains of Edward the Con¬ 
fessor, which had formerly lain in another part of the 
Abbey. William the Conqueror had previously bestowed 
on the tomb a rich pall, and the shrine had always been 
highly reverenced. An old writer describing the transla¬ 
tion of St. Edward’s bones to the new shrine, speaks as 





WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


15 


follows. “ In sight of all the principal nobility and gentry 
of the land who were assembled here, he (the king) and 
his brother, Richard, carried the chest containing St. Ed¬ 
ward’s remains, upon their shoulders with vast ceremony. 
On seeing it exalted, the devils were instantly cast out of 
two possessed persons who had come purposely (the one 
from Ireland, the other from Winchester), to receive that 
benefit.” The anniversary of St. Edward’s translation was 
for a long time afterwards observed by the corporation and 
the principal citizens. 

In the year 1297 the Abbey was much injured by fire, 
hut was shortly afterwards repaired by the abbot; and in 
the course of the next century many additions were made. 
The Eastern part of the nave and aisles were rebuilt and 
finished in 1307, during the reign of Henry III., and 
Edward I. During the reigns of Edward II., Edward III., 
and Richard II., the abbot’s house, the cloisters, and prin¬ 
cipal monastic buildings were erected. The abbot under 
whose direction this principally took place, died in the year 
1386 ; consequently the buildings still remaining are 
between four and five hundred years old. 

Not the least difficult task in restoring the Abbey was to 
procure a sufficient number of experienced workmen for 
the purpose. In order to effect this, it was customary to 
impress artizans into the king’s service, in the same manner 
as sailors are pressed to man our ships of war during our 
contests with foreign nations. In such cases, the king 
issued a writ commanding the sheriffs of the different 
counties and cities to seize all good artizans, qualified to 
perform the particular kind of work required to be done, 
and cause them to attend where the king might desire them. 
The following writ is extant among several others to the 
same purport. It was for the purpose of providing painters 
for Westminster Hall, and was directed, “ From the king 
to all and singular the sheriffs, &c., greeting. Know ye, 
that we have appointed our beloved William de Wal- 
syngham to take so many painters in our City of London, 
(the fee of the church excepted), as may be sufficient for 
our works in St. Stephen’s Chapel, within our Palace of 


16 


COMPANION TO 


Westminster, and to bring them to our palace aforesaid, for 
our works, at our wages , there to remain as long as may 
be requisite : and giving him authority to arrest all who 
shall oppose or prove rebellious in this matter, and commit 
them to our prisons until we shall have otherwise ordered 
their punishment. And therefore we command you that 
you be assisting the said William, in executing and ful¬ 
filling all things before mentioned, with your aid and 
counsel, as often and in the manner in which by the said 
William on our account you may be required.” It appears 
that the wages given by the king were sometimes much 
less than the workmen were willing to receive, and in con¬ 
sequence they frequently absconded from their employment. 
In the reign of Edward III. several writs were issued by 
the king, directed to the sheriffs, commanding them 
“ to arrest all such artificers as had deserted the king’s 
service in search of better wages,” and subjecting their em¬ 
ployers to the forfeiture of their property. The wages of 
workmen towards the close of the thirteenth and beginning 
of the fourteenth centuries were as follows :—Superior 
masons had 6d. per day, and the wages of others varied 
from 4d. to 5d. a-day. The wages of a principal smith 
was 6d. a day ; of carpenters from 4id. to Gd. ; plumbers 
had from 4|. to 6d.; and tilers had 5d. per day. Inferior 
labourers did not receive more than 2|d. a-day, and often 
not so much as that. The painters, or, decorators appear 
to have received the higher rate of wages, some of them 
receiving as much as 14d. a day. These sums will appear 
very trifling when compared with the rate of wages at the 
present time; but it must be remembered that the value 
of money was much greater then than it is now. Indeed, 
Mr. Hallam, in his History of Europe, before mentioned, 
makes the following observations on this subject. “ There 
is one very unpleasing remark,” says he, “ which every 
one who attends to the subject of prices will be induced 
to make, that the labouring classes, especially those en¬ 
gaged in agriculture, were better provided with the means 
of subsistence in the reign of Edward III., or Henry VI., 
than they are at present. In the fourteenth century, 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


17 


Sir John Cullum observes, a harvest.man had 4d. a- 
day, which enabled him in a week to buy a comb of 
wheat; a man must now (1784) work ten or twelve days. 
So under Henry VI., if meat was at a farthing and a 
half the pound, which I. suppose was about the truth, 
a labourer earning 3d. a day, or Is. 6d. per week, could 
buy a bushel of wheat at 6s. the quarter, and twenty- 
four pounds of meat for his family. A labourer at present 
earning 12s. a-week, can only buy half a bushel of wheat 
at 41. the quarter, and twelve pounds of meat at 7d.” 
Artizans and workmen of all kinds were not so numerous 
then as they are at present. 

Between the years 1340 and 1483, including the reigns 
of Edward III., Richard II., Henry IV., Henry V., Henry 
VI., Edward IV., and Edward V., further additions were 
made to the Abbey, and the western part of the nave and 
aisles were rebuilt. The circumstance of these alterations 
of the Abbey having occupied so long a period of time, may 
be accounted for by the fact, that the sovereigns had but 
little money to spare for ecclesiastical purposes ; and that 
they were engaged during nearly the whole of that period 
in civil wars or foreign invasions. The war between tbe 
houses of York and Lancaster—the Red and White Roses 
—was at its height, and the strong stimulus that excited 
former sovereigns to works of this description—the absolu¬ 
tion for crimes—was beginning to be less cared for or 
respected. 

The west front, and great window, were built during the 
reigns of Richard III., and Henry VII.; and the great 
west window was afterwards rebuilt during the reigns of 
George I. and George II. 

The “ Wonder of the World,” as it has been called, 
Henry the Seventh’s Chapel, was commenced by that mo¬ 
narch shortly after he had become firmly seated on the 
throne, and as he intended it to be the future burial-place 
of himself and his successors, he spared no pains to render 
it a perfect and beautiful piece of architecture. That he 
was successful every succeeding age has borne witness, and 
it is, perhaps, one of the finest specimens of the Gothic 


18 


COMPANION TO 


style in the world. It was erected on the site of the 
chapel to the blessed Virgin, that was built by Henry 
III., and the honour of designing the building is due to 
an unknown artist. The first stone was laid by the 
Bishop Islip, on the 24th January, 1502 ; but the chapel 
was not perfectly finished during the reign of Henry VII. 
It was completed by Henry VIII., although that monarch 
on the dissolution of the monastries did not spare the re¬ 
venues of the Abbey. The total amount expended on the 
building exceeded 14,000/., at that time a most enormous 
sum. 

From this time forward, for a considerable period, little 
appears to have been done towards beautifying or repairing 
the Abbey. It was deprived of the greater part of its in¬ 
come by Henry the VUIth., and the monks were conse¬ 
quently unable to do anything towards its restoration. 

The Revenues of the Abbey in the year 1539, when it 
was suppressed, amounted, according to Speede, to no less 
a sum than 3,976/. per annum, which is at least equal to 
20,000/. a-year of our present money. Besides its furni¬ 
ture, which was of inestimable value, it had in different 
parts of the kingdom no less than two hundred and sixteen 
manors, seventeen hamlets, with ninety-seven towns and 
villages ; and though the Abbey was only second in rank, 
it was in all other respects the chief one in the kingdom, 
and its abbots had a seat in the House of Lords. 

After the execution of Charles I., the popular fury was 
directed against all religious edifices, with their monuments 
and shrines, that could in any way contribute to keep alive 
a feeling of respect for the Catholic church, by whom they 
were erected ; and Westminster Abbey did not escape the 
spoliation of the times. In the year 1643, it was converted 
into barracks for the soldiers of the parliament, during the 
civil war between Charles I. and the people ; and many of 
the beautiful tombs and images that adorned the different 
chapels of the Abbey, were mutilated or /destroyed. It 
is recorded that some of the soldiers who were quartered in 
the Abbey, broke the rails about the altar, and burnt 
them ; pulled down the organ, pawned the pipes at ale- 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


19 


houses for drink, and made a portion of the Abbey a pot¬ 
house, where they ate, drank, smoked, and committed many 
similar outrages. 

Little was done towards repairing the injuries that time 
and violence had effected, until the reign of William III. 
Queen Mary had restored it to its ancient conventual state 
on her accession ; and Queen Elizabeth had again ejected 
the monks, but neither had done anything towards restor¬ 
ing the building itself. In the time of William and Mary, 
the condition of the Abbey was brought under the notice of 
parliament, and a grant was obtained for the purpose of re¬ 
pairing it at the expense of the nation. Sir Christopher 
Wren was appointed to carry this object into effect, and 
under his direction, every part was thoroughly repaired and 
beautified. Two new towers at the western end of the 
Abbey were begun and completed during the reigns of 
George I. and George II., and although, perhaps, their 
appearance may be somewhat heavy, they yet add consi¬ 
derably to the architectural beauty of the building. In 
the year 1803, the roof of the choir was much injured by 
fire, but was shortly afterwards repaired ; and in the year 
1809, Mr. Wyatt commenced beautifying the whole of the 
exterior of Henry the Seventh’s chapel; it has since been 
completed at an expense of 42,000/. 

Having thus briefly described the various improvements 
and alterations that have been made in the Abbey from the 
earlier periods to the present time, it will be proper, before 
closing this historical account, briefly to notice some of the 
Coronation ceremonies, and other remarkable events that 
have taken place within the walls of this ancient edifice. 



20 


COMPANION TO 


CHAPTER III. 

Coronations of different Sovereigns_Crowning of Henry the 

Second’s Son.—Funerals of various Monarchs, and of Oliver 
Cromwell_Establishment of Caxton’s Priuting-Press.—Mu¬ 

sical Celebration of Handel’s Birth.—Reflections on concluding 
the History of the Abbey. 

After William the Conqueror had obtained the decisive 
victory at Hastings, over the brave but unfortunate Harold, 
he made it one of his first cares on his arrival in London, 
to give thanks for his success at King Edward’s tomb, in 
the Abbey. And it would seem from a passage in William 
of Malmsbury, the “ better to ingratiate himself with the 
English,” by displaying a veneration for the Confessor’s 
memory, he fixed on the church for the scene of his own 
coronation; and accordingly, on the Christmas-day follow¬ 
ing, he was crowned by the side of Edward’s tomb. Wil¬ 
liam had taken care that a number of his followers, and 
others favourable to his interests, should be present at the 
ceremony ; and when the people were asked, as was then 
the fonn, whether they would accept him as their king, 
these mercenaries replied in the affirmative with so much 
noise and vociferation, that it was thought by some of the 
Norman soldiers, that the people had revolted and slain 
the king. Upon this, the Normans who were in the City, 
immediately set fire to it in different places, and com¬ 
menced pillaging it. This event, though not of much im¬ 
portance in itself, as the tumult w r as soon repressed, laid the 
foundation for that bitter enmity which afterwards existed 
between the people and their invaders. William Rufus 
was crowned in the Abbey on Sunday, 26th September, 
1087. Henry I. was also crowned here on Sunday, the 
5th August, 1100 ; likewise Stephen, on St. Stephen’s 
Day, 1135 ; and Henry II. underwent the same ceremony 
on Sunday, the 19tli Dec., 1154. In the year 1170, a 
coronation of a somewhat curious description took place 
here. Henry II. having obtained leave of a general assem- 


WESTMINSTER AEBEY. 


21 


bly of his principal subjects at Windsor, had his eldest son, 
Henry, crowned king in the Abbey church. This cere¬ 
mony appears to have taken place at the request of the son, 
whose subsequent ingratitude was a base return for his 
father’s kindness. Holinshed, in his chronicles, fully de¬ 
scribes the coronation, and the particular circumstances 
attending it. “ The Coronation feast was held in the great 
Hall at Westminster, and King Henry, the father, upon 
that day, served his sonne at the table as sewer (or waiter), 
bringing up the bore’s head with trumpets before it, accord¬ 
ing to the manner. Whereupon the young man, conceiving 
a pride in his heart, beheld the standers by with a more 
stately countenance than he had wont; the Archbishop of 
York, who sat by him, marking his behaviour, turned to 
him, and said, ‘ Be glad, my good sonne, there is not 
another prince in the world that hath such a sewer at his 
table to this the new king answered, as it were disdain - 
fullie, thus : ‘ Why doost thou marvell at that ? My father, 
in doing it, thinketh it no more than becommeth him; he, 
being born of princely blood onlie on the mother’s side, 
serveth me that am a king borne, having both a king to my 
father, and a queen to my mother.’ Thus the young man 
of an evill and perverse nature, was puffed up in pride by 
his father’s unseemlie dooinge.” The young prince did 
not live to enjoy the crown ; but having rebelled against 
his father, was obliged to fly from England, and soon after 
died on the continent. 

Richard I. was crowned in the Abbey, on Sunday, the 
3rd September, 1189, and the ceremony was unfortunately 
distinguished by a massacre of the Jews. Richard had 
given orders that none of them should be allowed to ap¬ 
proach the Abbey while the solemnity was being per¬ 
formed, “ for feare of the enchantments that were wont to 
be practised;’’ but some of the principal Jews having 
failed to observe the injunction, the people committed great 
outrages upon their persons, and the Londoners slew many 
of them within the City, and burnt their houses. 

Richard was twice crowned in the Abbey; for having 
undertaken a war against France, he was taken prisoner 




22 


COMPANION TO 


and confined in that country for many years ; at last, how¬ 
ever, he obtained his release, on payment of a heavy fine, 
and, returning to England, was again crowned at West¬ 
minster, in the year 1197. 

The Coronations of all the other kings and queens of 
England, have taken place in Westminster Abbey ; and 
even where a monarch had been crowned previously in 
another part of the country, as in the case of Henry III., 
whose Coronation took place at Gloucester, it was thought 
proper to have the ceremony again performed at Westmin¬ 
ster. The expense of the Coronation in this case was not 
of course so great as those of monarchs of a later period ; 
hut the ceremony was always on a scale of great magnifi¬ 
cence. Probably, the most expensive Coronation of late 
years, was that of George IV., which is said to have cost 
the country nearly 150,000/. This however did not excel, 
if indeed it equalled, the Coronation of Henry VIII. On 
this occasion, it is said, that the streets were railed, barred, 
and swept; the fronts of the houses were adorned with 
tapestry and banners, and great part of the south of Cheap- 
side was covered with cloth of gold. The proceedings 
within the Abbey were on an equal scale of magnificence. 
The different City companies were arranged on stages from 
Gracechurch-street, westward. The Goldsmiths had vir¬ 
gins clad in white placed before them, bearing burning 
tapers ; and numbers of priests in the rich vestments of 
the altar lined the way, some bearing crosses, and others 
burning incense before the royal pair. 

Many of our monarchs have been buried in the Abbey, 
as we shall have to notice more at length when we come 
to speak of their tombs. Their funerals have been remark¬ 
able for little else than the extravagent profusion that gene¬ 
rally accompanies public ceremonies, and therefore require 
no lengthened notice. It is different however with the 
funeral of Oliver Cromwell, who was buried here. He was 
interredin Henry VII’s. chapel with great pomp and cere¬ 
mony. The walls were hung with escutcheons, to the 
number of 240. The hearse had twenty-six large em¬ 
bossed shields; twenty-four smaller, with crowns; six 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


23 


badges (his crest), and thirty-six scrolls, with mottos suited 
to his merit , placed on it. His effigies were carved and 
superbly arrayed ; and a velvet pall of eighty yards, was 
borne over all. The subsequent proceedings that took 
place were little in accordance with all this pomp, or anti¬ 
cipated by those who took part in the proceedings. No 
sooner had Charles II. been restored to his crown, than he 
proceeded to punish all those who had been concerned in 
his father’s death. And he carried his hostility even against 
the dead. He ordered the bodies of such of the judges of 
his father as had died, to be taken from their graves and 
hung. In pursuance of this order, the body of Cromwell was 
exhumed, and after having been treated with every species 
of indignity, it was hanged on a gallows erected at Tyburn. 

If, however, Westminster Abbey has occasionally been 
the scene of such occurrences, it is likewise the spot on 
which the most powerful agent of human improvement pro¬ 
duced its first effects in this country. The first printing- 
press established in England, was erected either in or close 
adjoining the Abbey, in some of its outbuildings, in the 
year 1471, by William Caxton. He was a mercer and 
citizen of London, but having in his travels abroad, and 
during his residence in Holland, Flanders, and Germany, 
in the affairs of trade, had an opportunity of informing 
himself of the whole method and progress of the art, and 
being patronized by many powerful persons, and particu¬ 
larly by the abbot of Westminster, on his return he set up 
a press in the Abbey, and began to print books. A book 
was discovered some years ago in the Archbishop of Can¬ 
terbury’s palace, with a date of its impression from Oxford, 
Anno 1468 ; but it is much doubted whether the book was 
original, and even if it should be so, Caxton, it is undenied, 
was the first person who used separate types, and is there¬ 
fore entitled to all the honour of having first introduced the 
art in a way in which it could become useful amongst us. 
The book first printed in the Abbey was a treatise on the 
Game of Chess. Other works followed, but very slowly, 
Caxton having not only to print himself, but also to trans¬ 
late, compose, and perform all the varied occupations con- 


24 


COMPANION TO 


nected with the art, that in the present day employ such 
an immense number of workmen and writers. 

In addition to these events, the Abbey has also been the 
scene of the grandest musical performances that have ever 
taken place in this country. In 1784, exactly a century 
from the birth of Handel, the event was commemorated by 
a musical festival on a scale of great magnificence. We 
have described it more particularly in our notice of Handel. 
Several musical performances of a similar nature took place 
during the ensuing seven years, and in 1834, one, as nearly 
equalling the celebration of 1784 as possible, took place. 
Nearly 3000 persons were present; and the number em¬ 
ployed in the full pieces, amounted to 591, including the 
vocal and instrumental performers. 

Having now described the principal historical occurrences 
which have taken place within the Abbey, we shall pass on 
to an examination of objects that may be more immediately 
interesting—the antiquities and beauties of the Abbey. 
We cannot quit this portion of the subject, however, with¬ 
out reflecting for a moment on the great changes that have 
taken place in this country, since the erection of this struc¬ 
ture ; the alteration in religion ; the change in the manners 
and customs of society, and in the condition of the people ; 
their improvement by means of the press ; and the com¬ 
plete transformation of the entire country from a state of 
gross barbarism, to that of high civilization. All this has 
occurred since the erection of the Abbey, and is intimately 
connected with its history, and even now, in its hale old 
age, it appears likely to withstand the inroad of lime for 
an indefinite period. Washington Irving, after visiting the 
Abbey, gave publicity to some very beautiful reflections on 
the subject, which will form an appropriate commentary on 
its history. “ I endeavoured,” says he, “ to form some 
arrangement in my mind of the objects I had been con¬ 
templating, but found they were already falling into indis¬ 
tinctness and confusion. Names, inscriptions, trophies, 
had all become confounded in my recollection, though I 
had scarcely taken my foot off the threshold. What, 
thought I, is this vast assemblage of sepulchres but a trea- 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


25 


sury of humiliation ; a high pile of reitirated homilies on 
the emptiness of renown, and the certainty of oblivion ! It 
is indeed the empire of death ; his great shadowy palace, 
where he sits in state, mocking at the relics of human 
glory, and spreading dust and forgetfulness on the monu¬ 
ments of princes. How idle a boast, after all, is the im¬ 
mortality of a name ! time is ever turning over his pages ; 
we are too much engrossed by the story of the present, to 
think of the characters and anecdotes that gave interest to 
the past, and each age is a volume thrown aside and 
speedily forgotten. The idol of to-day, pushes the hero of 
yesterday out of our recollection, and will in turn be sup¬ 
planted by his successor of to-morrow.” “ Our fathers,” 
says Sir Thomas Brown, “ find their graves in our short 
memories, and sadly tell us how we may be buried in our 
survivors.” History fades into fable ; fact becomes clouded 
with doubt and controversy ; the inscription moulders from 
the tablet; the statue falls from the pedestal; columns, 
arches, pyramids, what are they but heaps of sand, and 
their epitaphs but characters written in dust! What is the 
security of a tomb, or the perpetuity of an embalmment ? 
The remains of Alexander the Great have been scattered 
to the wind, and his empty sarcophagus is now the mere 
curiosity of a museum. The Egyptian mummies which 
Cambyses or time hath spared, avarice now consumeth ; 
Mizraim cures wounds, and Pharaoh is sold for balsams. 

What then is to ensure this pile which now towers above 
me, from sharing the fate of mightier mausoleums ? The 
time must come when its gilded vaults, which now spring 
so loftily, shall lie in rubbish beneath the feet; when, 
instead of the sound of melody and praise, the wind shall 
whistle through the broken arches, and the owl hoot from 
the shattered tower ; when the garish sunbeam shall break 
into these gloomy mansions of death; and the ivy twine 
round the fallen column, and the foxglove hang its blos¬ 
soms about the nameless urn, as if in mockery of the dead. 
Thus man passeth away ; his name perishes from record 
and recollection ; his history is as a tale that is told, and 
his very monument becomes a ruin. 

c 


26 


COMPANION TO 


CHAPTER IV. 


THE ANTIQUITIES AND BEAUTIES OF THE 

ABBEY. 

The Exterior of the Building.—Description of the North Side 
and Transept, by a writer a century ago.—Western Towers.—• 
Curious manner in which South Side is supported.—Henry the 
Seventh’s Chapel. 

It is unfortunate that the exterior of Westminster Ab¬ 
bey, like many other public edifices, cannot be seen to 
advantage, in consequence of being surrounded by 
buildings that obstruct the view. It is built, as pre¬ 
viously mentioned, in the form of a cross, but the ori¬ 
ginal simplicity of the plan is somewhat injured by 
the number of small chapels added to the main building. 
Our frontispiece represents a view of the north side, 
but for the spectator the most favourable spot for ob¬ 
serving it is the north-west; and the appearance of the 
northern transept, from this spot, cannot fail to interest the 
spectator, as a specimen of the extreme elegance and beauty 
of which the Gothic style of architecture is susceptible. It 
has always been regarded with admiration by those who 
have described the Abbey, and from having been the chief 
entrance, probably for centuries, possesses an additional 
claim to notice. 

A writer, upwards of a century ago, thus described 
the appearance of the front elevation of the transept at 
that period. “On the north side this noble and lofty 
fabric is much deformed and defaced, partly by the many 
close adjacent buildings, but much more by the north 
winds, which, driving the caroding and piercing smoke of 
the sea-coals from the city that way, have so much im¬ 
paired and changed her former beauties, that the remnants 
thereof are scarce sufficient to convince you of her excel¬ 
lency in former ages, were it not that that admirable por¬ 
tico, which is on this side, did give you some undeniable 



WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


27 


idea of her ancient greatness. This portico has a most 
noble door, or portal, which leads you into the cross of the 
church, with two lesser porches on each side, one of which 
serves for the conveniency of entering therein. Its rem¬ 
nants, or ruins, sufficiently speak what a curious piece this 
portico has been in former times ; for here were the statues 
of the twelve apostles at full length, with a vast number 
of other saints and martyrs, intermixed with intaglios, 
devices and abundance of fretwork, to add to the beauty 
thereof; but all much defaced and worn out by time and 
the caroding vapours of the sea-coals;*' and it is doubtless 
owing to its excellency, that some in former ages have 
bestowed upon it the title of “ Solomon’s Porch;” judging 
that a piece of work, far surpassing anything of that kind 
in those days, might very well challenge an uncommon 
name. The very remnants wdiich are obvious to our sight, 
even to this day, may soon convince us of its ancient 
beauty and magnificence; for this portico still retains en¬ 
tire, below two of these admirable statues, besides three 
others quite defaced, and two more over the eastern part of 
the portico, and as many more over the western door, 
pretty entire, and all undeniable witnesses of their former 
excellency.” Since this was written the northern entrance 
has been repaired and beautified. The grand buttresses 
above, with the pinnacles arising from thence, present a 
most imposing appearance; and the exquisite workmanship 
of the Great Rose Window complete the effect This 
window is upwards of ninety feet in circumference, and the 
richness of the coloured glass of which it is formed, together 
with the delicate work of the sculptor, render it a noble 
work of art. It was rebuilt in the year 1722. Under¬ 
neath is the great porch mentioned, which is of consider¬ 
able depth, and contracts inwards. It is well deserving 
the attention of the lover of art. 

* It may be mentioned as illustrating the antipathy which once 
existed against coals, that some time before the period when this 
author wrote, they were prohibited to be burnt iu London, ac¬ 
cording to one writer, on pain of death. It is certain that per¬ 
sons burning them were guilty of a misdemeanor. 



28 


COMPANION TO 


Passing round to the west, the two great towers will 
attract attention. They were formerly of unequal height, 
and were executed as they appear at present by Sir Chris¬ 
topher Wren. He has been accused of want of taste in 
constructing them, and it is said, that they contain faults 
which cannot be defended by any rules of architecture. 
However this may be, they undoubtedly give an air of gran¬ 
deur to the Abbey, of which the want would soon be felt 
if they were removed. They are 225 feet in height. The 
window of the west transept, and the entrance porch, are 
also deserving of notice ; the window is a very fine one, 
and can be seen to the greatest advantage from within in 
front of the screen. 

The south side is much blocked up by buildings, but is 
remarkable for being supported the length of the cloisters 
by buttresses, which have their bases without the walls of 
the cloister; consequently it is only by their weight that 
they remain erect, and at the same time support the wall 
of the church by slender arches, whose insertions are so 
managed as to send the pressure downwards. This manner 
of contriving them was characterized by Sir Christopher 
Wren as the work of a bold but ignorant architect, and for 
the purpose of flattering the humour of the monks ; but it 
is considered, the nature of the ground being very unfa¬ 
vourable, that it could hardly have been executed in a more 
skilful manner. 

At the eastern extremity of the Abbey is situated the 
beautiful chapel of Henry VII. There is no other edifice 
in the kingdom, says Mr. Brayley, the antiquary, the 
external ornaments of which have been spread over its 
surface with such exuberant luxuriance as those of this 
chapel. It would seem, indeed, as though the architect 
had intended to give to stone the character of embroiderv, 
and inclose his walls within the meshes of lace-work. With 
the exception of the Plinth, every part is covered with 
sculptural decorations; the buttress towers are crested by 
ornamental domes, and enriched by niches and elegant 
tracery ; the cross springers are perforated into airy forms ; 
and the very cornices and parapets are charged, even to 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


29 


profusion, with armorial cognizances and knotted foliage. 
The vaulting and roof are supported by fourteen octagonal 
buttress towers, viz., six on each side, and two eastward; 
between which are thirteen lofty windows, those of the 
aisles being embowed, and those of the chapels projecting 
in three angles—the central angle forming an acute point. 
The buttress towers extend to a considerable height above 
the parapet, and are each crowned by an octagonal dome, 
of a graceful contour; having sockets springing up at every 
angle, and terminating in a richly crusted finial. An em¬ 
battled cornice surrounds each dome, and at the angles are 
either a lion, a dragon, or a greyhound, in a descending 
attitude. Below these, in front of each side tower, are 
three canopied niches with pedestals for statues, and on 
each pedestal is a label, inscribed in black letter, with the 
name of some prophet, apostle, or saint. The canopies are 
gracefully formed and the drops are enriched with foliage. 
The flying buttresses, or cross springers, which extend o ver 
the side aisles and east end, from the base of the turrets, 
are most ingeniously contrived, not only to resist the im¬ 
mense pressure of the vaulting roof, but likewise to con¬ 
nect the parts of the buildings, and associate by their 
lightness and ornaments with the general mass. They are 
each pierced into circles and other forms, and the lion, the 
dragon, and the greyhound, are sculptured in full relief, as 
creeping down the weatherings. The windows which oc¬ 
cupy a considerable space between the piers, are each 
divided into three tiers, and further divided at the apex by 
handsome tracery. 

The foregoing particulars will give the reader some idea 
of the external appearance of this beautiful Abbey, and 
assist the visitor in examining the different parts. The 
exterior is seldom thought worthy of close inspection, but 
it is hoped sufficient has been described to prove that all 
the beauties are not only within the walls, and that a little 
time spent in examining the edifice on the outside, before 
entering it, will not be thrown away, or the trouble unre¬ 
quited. 

Before proceeding to describe the interior of the Abbey, 


30 


COMPANION TO 


it will be proper to notice a building that once stood a little 
distance from it, but which has since been pulled down. 
This edifice was the Sanctuary, so celebrated in the earlier 
years of the history of our country ; and although not 
existing at the present day, it has too many interesting oc¬ 
currences connected with it, to be passed by without 
notice. 


CHAPTER V. 

The Sanctuary. —Origin of the custom.—Fines formerly inflicted 
for atrocious crimes.—Sanctuary at Durham.—The one at W est¬ 
minster.—Its sacred character, and the first violation of it.— 
Infamy of Sanctuaries iu later years.—Mode taken to suppress 
them. 

This building formerly stood on the spot where the Court 
House, Westminster, is erected, and it claims to be noticed 
first amongst the antiquities of the Abbey, from the great 
importance that was originally attached to it. It was built 
by Edward the Confessor at the time he erected the Abbey, 
and was of very great strength. The custom of taking 
sanctuary has many interesting circumstances connected 
with it, and therefore the following short historical account 
will probably be acceptable. 

From the earliest periods in the history of this country, 
to the time of the Reformation, it appears that the clergy 
were exempt from many kinds of punishment that were 
inflicted on other persons for particular offences ; and the 
church was always held so sacred, that no one who sought 
its protection, even against the ministers of the law, could 
be taken from it by force. This was a custom not merely 
during the time the Catholic religion prevailed, subsequent 
to the conquest, but even before that period amongst the 
rude Saxons themselves. 

There can be little doubt but that this privilege of Sanc¬ 
tuary, as it was called, operated beneficially, or it would 
hardly have been continued for so long a period. In a 
rude state of society, before the law was firmly established, 
when every man’s house was literally his castle, and his 




WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


31 


personal strength frequently the only force on which he 
could rely for protection and justice, it is natural to sup¬ 
pose that feuds and bloodshed were occurrences of no very 
extraordinary nature. As the relations or friends of a 
person slain under such circumstances thought it a duty of 
paramount importance to pursue the homicide, until he was 
slain or made compensation, a place of refuge and conceal¬ 
ment, till the anger of the pursuers had abated, or till re¬ 
compense could be made, must evidently have been of 
much service. 

The methods adopted in former times for the punishment 
of criminals differed materially from those of the present 
day ; human life was not held in so high estimation as at 
present, and there was no offence, the punishment for 
which could not be avoided for money. Murder, a crime 
considered by us one of the most heinous men can commit, 
was a common offence, and the criminal, if he could con¬ 
ceal himself till the desire for revenge of the friends of the 
murdered person had somewhat abated, could almost 
always provide for his safety by payment of a certain 
amount of money. Before the conquest a regular scale of 
prices was established, which, persons who caused the 
deaths of others should pay for the offence. The price of 
the king’s head, was settled by King Edmund, at about 
1,300/. of our present money ; a prince one-half; a bishop 
or alderman one-fourth ; and the lower order of freemen a 
few shillings only. By the law of Kent, the price of the 
archbishop’s head, was higher than that of the king’s. 
These facts are stated on the authority of Hume, in his 
history of this country, where it is also recorded, that Ed¬ 
mund, in his preamble to his laws, ordained, that if any 
one committed murder, he might, with the assistance of his 
friends or kindred, pay within a twelvemonth the fine he 
had incurred for his crime. And that no criminal should 
he killed who flew to the Sanctuary or temple, or took re¬ 
fuge in any of the king’s towns. In lapse of time these 
laws of course underwent great modifications, hut still the 
Sanctuary or temple, was considered so sacred, that any¬ 
one who dared to profane it, by killing a fugitive who had 


32 


COMPANION TO 


sought its protection, was considered a greater criminal 
than the one who had taken refuge, and was generally ex¬ 
communicated by the church. The privilege of Sanctuary, 
however, by degrees was confined to certain parts of the 
kingdom, although the altar of a church still retained its 
sacred character. One famous Sanctuary was at Durham, 
where two men lay in chambers over the north door, and 
when any offenders knocked they let them in and tolled a 
bell to give notice that some one had taken Sanctuary. 
They were dressed in black gowns with a yellow cross 
upon the shoulder. Those who took Sanctuary, lay upon a 
grate made for that purpose ; they had meat, drink, and 
bedding for thirty-seven days, at the cost of the house. 
Numberless criminals availed themselves of the virtue of 
this place to avoid the rigour of the common law ; for under 
the Saxon institutes unless a man made restitution or took 
Sanctuary, he suffered immediate punishment. 

This Sanctuary was by no means, however, so celebrated 
as the one we have to describe more particularly, viz., that 
belonging to the Abbey of Westminster. Foshroke, in 
his dictionary of antiquities, states that it was a singular 
double building, and there was an open place of punish¬ 
ment and reproof, where ill-behaving persons were put in 
the stocks, &c. Living in Sanctuary was very expensive, 
but persons who took refuge, generally did so only for a 
short time. Of the one belonging to the Abbey, persons 
of the highest rank have availed themselves. In the year 
1470, the Queen of Edward IV. was obliged to fiy to this 
place for protection, when a conspiracy had driven the 
king from the kingdom for a time ; and within its precincts 
Edward V. was born. 

Subsequently, when the Protector, afterwards Richard 
III., endeavoured to obtain possession of the young princes, 
Edward V., and his brother, their mother again sought 
the protection of the Sanctuary. On this occasion a re¬ 
markable instance occurred of the respect in which it was 
held, for although Richard was then all powerful, he could 
not prevail even on the creatures immediately under his 
own eye, to violate the sacred, refuge, and force the un- 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


33 


happy queen and her children from the altar. It was only 
by stratagem and persuasion that they were ultimately 
brought from thence. 

In August, 1378, the right of Sanctuary possessed by the 
Abbey of W estminster, was for the first time violated ; 
and the church itself became the scene of two most atroci¬ 
ous murders, which were committed under the following 
circumstances, as related by Mr. Britton, in his History of 
Westminster Palace. At the famous battle of Najara, in 
Spain, fought between Edward the Black Prince, and Don 
Henry, on the 3rd April, 1367, the Count of Denia, a 
Castilian nobleman, was made prisoner by Frank de Haule, 
or Ilaulay, and John Shakle, esquires, to Sir John Chandos, 
who conveyed him to England as their lawful captive. 
Frank de Haule, when dying, bequeathed his share of the 
prize to his son Robert, who, conjointly with Shakle, per¬ 
mitted the count to return to Castile to procure means to 
defray his ransom. He died, however, before this could be 
effected, and his son and heir “ who remained in Gage for 
the monie,” was for several years, still kept in durance 
by the two esquires. At length, early in the reign of 
Richard II., the Duke of Lancaster, who in right of Con- 
stantia, his wife, had laid claim to the crown of Castile, de¬ 
manded the young count from his keepers ; and on their 
refusing compliance he caused them to be committed to the 
Tower. Soon afterwards, escaping from prison, they took 
Sanctuary in the Abbey Church at Westminster; but it 
having been determined to seize them by force, Sir Ralph 
de Ferrers, one of the council, and Sir Alan Boxhull, con¬ 
stable of the Tower, with a retinue of fifty persons in 
armour, entered the church for that purpose, just at the 
time of the celebration of high mass. Shakle was pre¬ 
vailed on to submit without resistance; but Robert de 
Haule “ would not suffer them to come within his reach, 
and perceiving they meant to take him by force, he drew 
out a falcheon, or short sword, which he had girt to him, 
and therewith layde so freely about him, traversing twice 
round about the monke’s quire, that til they had beset him 
on each side, they could doe him no hurt, but at length 

c 3 


34 


COMPANION TO 


when they had got him at that advantage, one of them 
clove hvs head to the very braynes, and an other thrust 
him through the body behinde with a sworde, and so they 
rnurthered him amongst them. They slew also one of the 
monkes that would have hadde them to have saved the 
esquires life.” 

This sacrilegious violation of a consecrated Sanctuary 
occasioned a great outcry amongst all ranks of the people ; 
and the Abbey church, as profaned by the shedding of 
blood, was shut up for about four months. Sentence of 
excommunication was also pronounced by the Archbishop 
of Canterbury, and five of his suffragan bishops, against all 
who had been concerned in the murder, either as principals 
or abettors, except the Duke of Lancaster, whcs3 near rela¬ 
tionship to the king, and possibly some apprehension of 
his vengeance, was the cause of his being especially ex¬ 
empted by name. His influence, indeed, was sufficiently 
powerful to secure the murderers from suffering in person, 
as they highly deserved ; but Sir Ralph de Ferrers and 
Sir Alan Boxhull, the two principals, covenanted to give 
200/. to the Abbot of Westminster, by way of penance. 
Sometime afterwards, Shakle was set at liberty, he having 
compounded with the king to receive 500 marks in ready 
money, and lands of the annual value of 100 marks, for the 
ransom of his captive. It then became known that the 
young count, who had been hitherto in concealment, “ was 
the verie groom that had served Shakle, all the tyme of 
hys trouble, and would never utter himself what he was 
before that time, having served hym as a hired servant all 
that while in prison, and out of prison, and in danger of 
life when his other master was rnurthered.” This anecdote 
affords a curious illustration of the chivalrous feelings that 
often actuated both captors and captives in their conduct 
towards each other. 

It appears that the inhabitants of the metropolis were so 
much excited by this sacriligious violation of a building 
which had always previously been held in the greatest vene¬ 
ration, that it was thought advisable the parliament should 
not meet as usual at Westminster; and it accordingly as- 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


35 


sembled subsequently in St. Peter’s Abbey, in the City of 
Gloucester. During the session a strong petition was pre¬ 
sented from the abbot and convent of Westminster, com¬ 
plaining of the recent violation of their Sanctuary ; and in 
the ensuing parliament, which met at Westminster, on the 
25th April, 1379, it was ordained that “ the privileges and 
immunities of the Abbey of Westminster should remain 
whole and inviolate;” but with the proviso that the lands 
and goods of such persons as took Sanctuary to defraud 
their creditors, should be liable to seizure in discharge of 
their debts. 

This last proviso was rendered necessary in consequence 
of the custom that then prevailed, by which debtors were 
allowed to avail themselves of the privilege of Sanctuary to 
escape the law and defraud their creditors. These privi¬ 
leged places became also in course of time a refuge for 
some of the most depraved persons in society. Sir Walter 
Scott, in his historical novel of “ The Fortunes of Nigel,” 
has given an interesting description of a Sanctuary in 
London, called Whitefriars, close to Temple Bar. In the 
reign of William and Mary this place had become so into¬ 
lerable a nuisance that an act of parliament was passed for 
the purpose of abolishing it. The act stated, that ever since 
the reformation certain places in and about London, which 
had been Sanctuaries during the prevalence of the Popish 
religion, afforded asylum to debtors, and were become re¬ 
ceptacles of desperate persons who presumed to set the law 
at defiance. One of these places, Whitefriars, was filled 
by a crew of ruffians, who every day committed acts of 
violence and outrage. The law passed was however so 
rigorously put in execution, that they were obliged to 
abandon the district, which was soon filled with more 
creditable inhabitants. 

Even so late as the year 1720, the privilege of Sanctuary 
was attempted to be taken advantage of, and Hume states 
that an act of parliament was obliged to be passed for the 
more effectual execution of justice in a part of Southwark, 
called the Mint, where a great number of persons had taken 
Sanctuary under the supposition that it was a privileged 
place. 


COMPANION TO 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE INTERIOR OF THE ABBEY. 

General remarks on the Monuments.—Poet’s Corner.—Chapels of 
St. Benedict, St. Edmund, and St. Nicholas.—Curiosities and 
Monuments contained in them. 

In order that visitors to the Abbey may without difficulty 
ascertain the situation of the relics, &c. that are about to 
be described, we shall follow the usual course taken by 
those who exhibit them, and, entering at the door in Poet’s 
Corner, thus proceed round the edifice. In this course we 
shall have to notice the several chapels which now form 
part of the Abbey, and the antiquities they contain. They 
are situated on the north side, and although dedicated to 
different saints, they all of them bore the general name of 
“ Ladye Chapel,” in honour of the Virgin Mary. They 
appear unnecessary additions to the Abbey, but they were 
not without their use. “ If any one found himself too late 
for the service of the day, they were open to him, and he 
might there join in the general devotions without disturbing 
the congregation who were at prayers. There also the 
sick might take their part in the service without fatigue : 
and the stranger who arrived from afar, and wished not to 
appear before his brethren in the worn and dusty garment 
of the traveller.” The number of these chapels belonging 
to the Abbey are nine, and are distinguished by the follow¬ 
ing titles : 1, St. Benedict’s; 2, St. Edmund’s; 3, St. Ni¬ 
cholas’ ; 4, Henry the Seventh’s, originally the Blessed 
Virgin’s ; 5, St. Paul’s ; 6, St. Edward thei! Confessor’s ; 
7, Erasmus’ ; 8, Abbot Islip’s; 9, St. John's, St. An¬ 
drew’s, and St. Michael’s. The latter three are now 
formed into one. 

A description of the curiosities of these chapels, with 
those in the area and transepts, will introduce to notice all 
that is worthy of being particularized within the Abbey. 

In viewing the monuments the visitor cannot fail to be 



WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


37 


struck at the great difference presented by those of the 
present day to those of the earlier ages. In nearly all the 
ancient tombs, without exception, the figures are rigid and 
ungraceful, generally laying on their backs, and too fre¬ 
quently presenting features without the least expression of 
intelligence to indicate the character of the individual, or 
the ability of the artist. There are however exceptions, 
but whenever the sculptor of those days attempted to depart 
from the general custom, he appears to have miserably 
failed. We have examples of this fact particularly in the 
chapel of St. Edmund. Knights in armour, and ladies, in 
certainly not graceful dresses, of general uniformity, form 
nearly the whole of the earlier statues. Even children of 
the tenderest years are ludicrously represented in the same 
suits as their grandfathers and grandmothers. The monu¬ 
ments of a later period give evidence of the improved taste 
and ability of the sculptors, attention is paid to minutia, 
the drapery is graceful, and the countenances often ex¬ 
pressive. The coarse rough stone is replaced by marble, 
and hence the sculpture has been more enduring. After 
this period the fashion appears to have prevailed of gilding 
the tombs and interlaying coloured glass, to give additional 
effect. Many of the tombs still exhibit the care that has 
been bestowed on them in this way ; but they have little 
of the beauty that distinguishes the works of our own 
time : Roubilliac, Rysbrach, Scheemakers, Ranks, Bacon, 
Nollekens, Flaxman, Westmacott, and Chantry, have 
effected a revolution in this department of art, as surprising 
as any perhaps that can be mentioned. The statues erect¬ 
ed by these great artists, which the world will not willingly 
suffer to decay, exhibit the most refined taste and genius ; 
and approach as nearly to the unrivalled works of the 
Greek sculptors as possible. The visitor will find in the 
Abbey as fine a collection in this department of art as he 
can desire ; and although in consequence of a wish to see 
all that is to be seen, and not to lose the descriptions of the 
attendant, visitors generally hurry from one monument to 
another without minutely examining any, those of the 
last century should not be so treated ; their beauties can 


38 


COMPANION TO 


only be seen perfectly by a critical inspection, and half-a- 
dozen well examined will give the mind more pleasure 
than looking heedlessly at a hundred. The admirer of the 
art of sculpture, as a late writer has well observed, has 
here as ample a field as the moralist in which to enjoy his 
peculiar taste. Upwards of four hundred monuments to 
characters more or less illustrious, besides a vast number 
of tablets and tombs, fill the place which is still accumu¬ 
lating its treasures. But the privilege of being numbered 
among the illustrious dead in such a place as this, should 
not surely be dependent on the ability to pay the fees. The 
Chapter demanded and received 700 1. for fees out of the 
6000/. which parliament voted to Bacon to erect a statue 
to Earl Chatham. What a mockery it is that the monu¬ 
ment of Newton should be associated with that of the 
“ carver in ordinary ” of Charles II. ; that a murdered 
rake, whose merit was his money, and his fate the singu¬ 
larity of his being shot in his own chariot on a Sunday in 
Pall Mall, should claim the attention and divide the inte¬ 
rest with Percival, slain in the lobby of the House of Com¬ 
mons ; that a child of a gentleman of the Royal Bedcham¬ 
ber should fill a space which might have been occupied by 
one grown grey in the service of the human race. West¬ 
minster Abbey should be a privileged place—the sanc¬ 
tuary of valour—of genius—of rank illustrious in the ser¬ 
vice of its country—of beauty and virtue conspicuous in 
their influence on society.” Although doubtless such a 
desire might with advantage be acted upon in the present 
day, it must be borne in mind that at the time when the 
obnoxious monuments were placed in the Abbey, it was 
differently situated to what it is at the present time. It is 
to be regretted, however, that so many illustrious names in 
science, in literature, and in the arts, who have tended so 
materially to civilize and increase the happiness of the 
people of this country, should have no record in this great 
collection of England’s most celebrated names. 

Entering the Abbey at the South East corner, we shall 
now describe the monuments in— 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


39 


poet’s CORNER. 

The tombs about this spot are probably better known 
than the others, in consequence of the public having ad¬ 
mission to it during divine service. They are not so 
splendid in appearance as many that catch the eye ; but 
tliev have associations connected with them, associations 
of the most pleasing kind, that render them even more at¬ 
tractive than the finer productions of the sculptor’s chisel. 
The bust of Milton by Rysbracli is a finished specimen of 
art; the calm dignity of feature and the inspired look that 
marks the countenance, brings vividly before us the author 
of “ Paradise Lost.” To the left of Milton is a head of 
Butler, that deserves attention ; it is precisely the face 
which one might imagine should be that of the author of 
“ Hudibras.” The monument to the memory of Ben 
Jonson is principally remarkable for its epitaph, “ O rare 
Ben Jonson which was engraved by the direction of Sir 
William Davenant, who has on his tomb in the ground a 
little distance olf, a similar epitaph on himself. Chaucer’s 
tomb, though very elegant when first erected, is now so 
much decayed that it seldom attracts the notice of visitors ; 
but it is worthy of attention if only on occount of its being 
so far superior to many of the same date of erection. 

The marble slab erected to the memory of Spencer 
contains the following epitaph :—“ Here lies (expecting 
the second coming of our Saviour, Christ Jesus,) the body 
of Edmund Spencer, the prince of poets in his time ; whose 
divine spirit needs no other witness than the works which he 
left behind him. He was born in London in 1553, and died 
in 1598.” Siiakspeare’s monument is the least likely 
to escape attention ; it was sculptured by Sheemakers, and 
is acknowledged to be a finished performance. On the 
pedestal are the heads of Henry V., Richard III., and 
Oueen Elizabeth, fit ornaments for the tomb of our great 
dramatist, whose figure is delicately sculptured above. 
Nearly opposite to this is a full-length statue of the cele¬ 
brated Addison, standing on a circular basement, on which 
are figures of the Muses ; their attitudes are graceful, and 


40 


COMPANION TO 


the monument suitable for one who gave to posterity the 
best example of pure language, and the best rules for living 
well, which remain and ever will remain, sacred. The 
beautiful monument to John Gay contains for his epitaph 
the following lines written by himself :—- 

“ Life is a jest, and all things show it; 

I thought so once, but now I know it.” 

It is questionable whether they are calculated to awaken in 
the mind the sentiments with which it is desirable we 
should regard the tombs of genius. The monument to 
Handel is worthy of being, as it was, the last perform¬ 
ance of the eminent Roubiliac ; the likeness is known to 
be correct; and the arrangement of musical instruments, 
and his great work “ The Messiah,” open at the part “ I 
know that my Redeemer liveth,” are very appropriate. 
Dr. Stephen Hales has a tomb with two verv beautiful 
figures in relief, representing religion and botany ; the 
latter holds a medallion of this great explorer of nature to 
public view, and religion is deploring the loss of the divine. 
The monument to the memory of David Garrick, the 
tragedian, is one of the most striking in the Abbey ; he is 
throwing aside a curtain which discovers a medallion of 
Shakspeare, and is intended to show the power he possess¬ 
ed of bringing forth the great bard’s latent beauties : on 
either side are tragedy and comedy. The manner in which 
the sculptor has marked the difference between them is 
highly creditable to his ability; the figure of comedy 
laughing and unmasked, is a fine piece of sculpture. 

In viewing the many beautiful monuments around, we 
may forget to cast our eyes upon the pavement. We should 
not do so, however, were it only to notice the slab that 
covers the remains of old Thomas Parr ; he lived in the 
reigns of ten sovereigns, from Edward IV. to Charles I., 
and attained the extraordinary age of 152 years. Under 
the pavement near Dryden’s tomb, is also buried (without 
tomb or inscription) the celebrated Francis Beaumont, 
the dramatic poet; and Robert Haule, by whose murder 
the privilege of Sanctuary was violated, as previously de- 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


41 


scribed, lies near the same spot. The other tombs of the 
poets present nothing particular that requires notice ; their 
biographies are given in another part of this work. 

Passing through the gate by the side of Dryden’s monu¬ 
ment, the visitor now enters the Chapel of St. Bene¬ 
dict. 

It contains nothing that requires a particular description, 
being occupied by a few old tombs to the memory of per¬ 
sons whose lives were not distinguished by any important 
event that calls for commemoration. 

THE CHAPEL OF ST. EDMUND. 

A wooden screen divides this chapel from the aisle, and 
the ascent to it is by a single step. On the right side of 
the door stands the monument of William de Valence, 
Earl of Pembroke ; it is a curious specimen of the tombs 
erected in the fourteenth century, but at present is in a 
most delapidated condition. Indeed, most of the statues 
and tombs in this chapel appear to have been exceedingly 
ill-used. There is an alabaster monument of John of El- 
tham, Earl of Cornwall, which must at one time have 
been as fine as any in the Abbey ; but it is now also bro¬ 
ken and disfigured. A writer, speaking of a large wood- 
cut which must have been affixed to the wall many years 
ago, being nearly obliterated by time, suggests the proba¬ 
bility of its having been one of the requests for prayers for 
the soul of some person deceased, which had been placed 
there during the reign of Mary, when the Abbey was re¬ 
stored to its original condition. The only tomb deserving 
a particular notice in this chapel is one to the memory of 
Lady Elizabeth Russel; who is represented asleep in a 
chair, and underneath are placed the words, “ She is not 
dead, but sleeps.” The exhibitor of the Abbey states that 
she died of a prick of a needle, which produced lockjaw ; 
but there is reason to conclude that this statement is one 
of the marvellous relations with which the exhibitors amuse 
the visitor, and most probably originated in consequence of 
the Latin epitaph beneath. 


42 


COMPANION TO 


Between the chapels of St. Edmund and St. Benedict is 
a monument to the memory of the Children of Henry 
III. It has evidently been a very superb monument; but 
is now only deserving notice as it shows “ to what strange 
uses may we not return,” being converted into a writing- 
desk for the attendant! 

THE CHAPEL OF ST. NICHOLAS. 

The tombs in this chapel are nearly all in the Eliza- 
bethian style, of which they afford the visitor some curious 
specimens. Canopies, effigies, kneeling figures, and py¬ 
ramids, are curiously intermixed ; and each tomb has for¬ 
merly been enriched and beautified, according to the taste 
of the age, with gilding and touchstone, alabaster and por¬ 
phyry. The persons to whom the monuments are erected 
are no less strangely associated; amongst the rest is a 
large pyramid erected to the memory of a child two months 
old , who was overlaid by his nurse. Amongst the curious 
epitaphs may be enumerated that of Lady Cecil’s ; it is 
a dialogue between her husband and herself expressing the 
affection they formerly experienced for each other. There 
is a gothic monument to the memory of William de 
Dudley, Bishop of Durham, that deserves notice, being a 
good specimen of monuments in that style. 


CHAPTER VII. 

henry the seventh’s chapel. 

Interior of the Chapel.—The Pavement_The Stalls_Curious 

Carvings on the Seats.—The Windows.—Statues in the Chapel. 

—The Roof.—Henry the Seventh’s Tomb_Monuments in the 

Aisles. 

The chapels hitherto described contain little to interest the 
visitor; but the one now about to be noticed, is rich in all 
that can gratify the curiosity of the inquirer, or the culti¬ 
vated taste of the artist. 

The entrance is by a flight of twelve steps of black mar- 




WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


43 


ble, under a porch of fine workmanship, which is divided 
into three arches. In consequence of the darkness of this 
entrance, it is unfortunate that the ornaments with which it 
is adorned cannot he seen to advantage ; but the fine sculp¬ 
ture of the roof is well deserving attention. This porch is 
said to be one of the most beautiful, in the pointed style of 
architecture, at present existing. The entrance gates to 
the chapel at the top of the steps at first appear to be com¬ 
posed of solid metal; they are, however, formed of oak, 
cased with brass. The centre gates are eleven feet three 
inches in height, and eight feet three inches in width; and 
contain sixty perfect squares perforated, and five imperfect 
ones. The side gates are nearly eleven feet in height, and 
five in width ; they contain twenty-eight squares, and are 
all ornamented with the initials of Henry the Seventh’s 
name, bunches of roses entwined with a crown (in allusion 
to the union of the houses of York and Lancaster by his 
marriage) fleus-de-lis—the portcullis with a coronet, &c. ; 
the devices are of brass, and finely cast. The visitor now 
enters the nave of the chapel, and passing from the gloom 
of the entrance the sight that presents itself is greatly in- 
hanced ; at the first entry it is difficult to fix the attention 
on any particular object. The ceiling, “ the fretted vault,” 
the fine windows, the exquisitely carved stalls, and the 
beauty of the great tomb of Henry VII. at the end, all 
impress themselves upon the mind so vividly, that it is 
some time before we can direct our attention to one spot 
alone, in order to examine in detail what has so much 
gratified us as a whole. If we do, however, we shall find 
that every portion is characterized by the most finished 
workmanship; and that the beauty of the entire building 
is derived from the perfection of its parts. To enable the 
reader to appreciate the work as it deserves, we shall com¬ 
mence with a description of the pavement, and from thence 
proceed to the roof. 

The pavement was laid down at the expense of Dr. 
Killigrew, formerly a prebendary of this Abbey. As a me¬ 
morial of his munificence a brass plate recording the fact, 
is inlaid in the pavement at the upper end of the chapel; 


44 


COMPANION TO 


this pavement is of black and white marble, lozenge shape. 
In the centre is a plate of brass, generally covered with the 
seats, which is the only memorial that distinguishes the 
tomb of George II. and his Queen. The length of the 
chapel, measured along the floor, is one hundred and fifteen 
feet, the breadth eighty feet, and the height eighty-six feet. 

On each side of the nave, on a flooring raised a little 
above the level of the pavement, is a row of oaken stalls ; 
before which are reading-desks, and below them rows of 
seats. These stalls and desks are appropriated to the 
Knights of the Bath and their esquires. The stalls pre¬ 
vent the beauty of the arches of the aisles being seen ; but 
they are finely carved, and each is different from the others. 
On the tops of the pinnacles are placed the helmets, crests, 
and swords, of the Knights of the Bath ; and the banners 
of the knights who belonged to the order in 1812, when a 
grand installation took place, are hung from projecting sup¬ 
porters. Underneath the stalls are the seats of the esquires, 
having their arms, names, and titles, engraved on brass 
plates fastened to the backs. These seats are made so that 
they can turn back and form small stools, which are called 
“ miserere and it is said were intended formerly for the 
benefit of the monks, who could thus rest with their elbows 
on the upper part of the stalls during portions of their 
painful religious offices. They are so formed, however, 
that if the monk happened to fall asleep, the seat would 
fall forward and throw the unfortunate monk on the floor 
of the nave ; these seats are likewise ornamented with some 
exceedingly rare carving. When the seats are down no¬ 
thing is to be seen ; but upon turning them up we find 
those improper representations which are an evidence of 

the diseased taste of the times when thev were carved. 

•/ 

Many of them possess an irresistible whimsicality of 
thought, most ludicrously expressed ; such as asses gather¬ 
ing nuts ; another drinking ; a bear playing on the bag¬ 
pipes ; two figures with their hands tied across their knees ; 
a woman flagellating a man as she w'ould a little child ; 
another beating a man with a distaff; a man distorting his 
mouth with his fingers ; a giant picking the garrison of a 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


45 


castle out over the walls ; an ape overturning a basket of 
wheat ; a fox in armour riding a goose ; a cock in armour 
riding a fox ; a devil carrying off a miser; the judgment 
of Solomon ; and several which are too rude and even in¬ 
delicate to be described. Some of them, however, are re¬ 
presentations of fruit and flowers ; and these are particu¬ 
larly deserving of attention, from the perfect resemblance 
they bear to their originals. Altogether, perhaps, there is 
not so fine a collection of specimens of carving in wood in 
the kingdom as these, which ornament the seats of the 
esquires under the knights’ stalls. The carving of the 
stalls is extremely good. It will be perceived that one or 
two of the places where the banners hang above, are 
vacant; they have been removed in consequence of the 
knights to whom they belonged having disgraced them¬ 
selves. Lord Cochrane’s was torn down in consequence of 
his having been concerned in some gambling transaction 
on the Stock Exchange. Sir E. Coutts was disgraced in 
ga similar manner, in consequence of his having been found 
uilty of a misdemeanour. 

The windows of the chapel were originally filled with 
splendid designs in painted glass ; one has the red and 
white roses, and a crown upon a tree, alluding to the find¬ 
ing of Richard the Third’s crown at a place called Stoke, 
after the battle of Bosworth Field. Some of the windows 
still contain portions, such as crosses, crowns, single fea¬ 
thers of the Prince of Wales’ crest; red and white roses ; 
the king’s initials, and fragments of canopies which were 
once above various saints. One of the figures in the win¬ 
dow opposite the entrance is still perfect, as well as several 
armorial bearings of the kings of England. There is a 
curious history connected with a window originally in¬ 
tended for this chapel that deserves to be noticed, the story 
is as follows :—It was made by the order of the magis¬ 
trates of Dort, in Holland, and intended as a present to 
Henry VII.; but that monarch dying before it was finished, 
it was set up in Waltham Abbey, in Essex, where it re¬ 
mained till the dissolution of that monastery ; when it was 
removed to New Hall in the same county, then in the 


46 


COMPANION TO 


possession of General Monk, and it was preserved by him 
during the civil wars. Some years ago, John Olmius, esq., 
the then possessor of New Hall, sold it to Mr. Conyers, of 
Copt Hall, who resold it to the inhabitants of St. Marga¬ 
ret’s Parish, Westminster, in 1758, for four hundred gui¬ 
neas ; and it now adorns St. Margaret’s Church, close to 
the Abbey. The subject illustrated by this painted win¬ 
dow is our Saviour’s crucifixion; but there are many 
figures on it that bear no relation to this event. At the 
bottom of the two side pannels are represented Henry VII. 
and his Queen ; the drawing was taken from the original 
picture sent to Dort for that purpose. Over the king is 
the figure of St. George, and above that a red and white 
rose ; over the figure of the queen stands that of St. Ca¬ 
therine of Alexandria ; and in the pannel over her head 
appears a pomegranate, the arms of the kingdom of Gre¬ 
nada. 

Around the chapel are a number of statues, in all seven¬ 
ty-three, so varied in their attitude, features, and drapery, 
that it is impossible to say any two are alike; the dispo¬ 
sition of their limbs is shown through the clothing, and the 
folds of their robes fall in those bold marked lines which 
are the characteristic of superior sculpture. They are thus 
described by an eminent antiquary, Nightingale :—the first 
five to the North-west are cardinals and divines ; the next, 
a figure with St. Peter’s keys on his hat; the second, hold¬ 
ing a mitre ; the third, a prelate, whose hand is licked by 
an imperfect animal ; the fourth, a fine studious old man, 
St. Anthony, reading—a pig is placed at his feet. The 
next is a prelate blessing a female figure kneeling before 
him ; after this a bishop reading with a spindle in one 
hand—a king and a bishop wresting the dart from Death, 
who lies prostrate under his feet; under the fourth win¬ 
dow is a priest uncovering the oil for extreme unction ; 
St. Lawrence with the gridiron, reading ; a venerable old 
man with flowing hair, bearing something (decayed) upon 
a cushion; a priest; and the fifth a female, probably a 
priestess. On the South side, commencing at the great 
arch which separates the nave from the chancel, a king 


1 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 47 

/ 

reading; an old man reading ; one playing on a flute ; St. 
Sebastian bound naked to a tree ; and a figure with a bow. 
Further on, a bishop, with his crosier in his left hand, with 
his right he holds a crowned head placed on the corner of 
his robe : a queen ; a bishop with a crosier and wallet; a 
king with a sceptre, and a head in his left hand ; St. Den¬ 
nys ; the fifth a bishop. Under the third window are sta¬ 
tues similar to the preceding, and also belonging to the 
great arch ; as they are much like the previous ones 
an enumeration of them might be tedious. The east end 
of both the aisles have had altars, and over them the same 
kind of beautiful niches, statues, and ornaments, that adorn 
the recesses of the nave. Amongst these statues we must 
not fail to notice one in the small chapel on one side of 
Henry the Seventh’s monument, and just above the tomb 
of the Duke of Montpensier. It is a representation of St. 
Roch, who is said to have been unremitting in his exertions 
during the plague, and for curing which he was famous ; 
the legend states that when he was taken ill, a dog brought 
him bread under a tree, and the animal is sculptured above. 
The walls, as well as the nave, contain upwards of a hun¬ 
dred and twenty statues, similar to those described. 

The next object that claims attention is the roof of this 
beautiful chapel. To give an accurate description of it is 
almost impossible, it must be seen to be appreciated. 
The best spot for viewing it, is at the extreme east end, 
and from this spot its appearance is grand beyond descrip¬ 
tion. None but those who are conversant with the diffi¬ 
culties of architecture can form a just idea of the skill and 
labour necessary to perfect such a roof as this. It is per¬ 
haps unequalled by any in the world. Mr. Brayley says 
that although on a slight examination it may appear that 
its ornamental character has diverged into overcharged ex¬ 
uberancy, yet, when the mind has had leisure to separate 
the masses, and to reflect on the consummate science dis¬ 
played in the details and arrangement, the judgment re¬ 
coils from its own inference, and willingly submits to be 
controlled by th3 more powerful emotions of unmixed ad¬ 
miration. In the design and construction of the main 


48 


COMPANION TO 


vaulting of the chapel profound geometrical knowledge is 
combined with the utmost practical science ; and the result 
has been truly termed a prodigy of art. It is not alone 
the untutored mind that contemplates with astonishment 
the vastness of its extent, and the fearful altitude of its 
pendent decorations ; but even the intelligent architect 
wonders at the ingenuity and daring hardihood that could 
arrange, and securely poise in air, such ponderous masses 
of stone, and counteract the power of gravity by profes¬ 
sional skill. The form of this chapel, is similar to that of 
the distinct building, it consists of a nave and chancel with 
two side aisles. The chancel is divided from the nave by a 
bold arch, five feet in depth crossing from north to south; 
which adds greatly to the strength of the building, it is 
decorated throughout so elaboratelv that it will afford the 
greatest pleasure to the admirers of architectural beauty. 
The lightness of the shafts that spring upwards, to support 
the roof; the singular diversity of appropriate and beautiful 
ornaments that adorn the arch, give a character to the work 
that cannot be excelled. It is astonishing that the builder of 
such an exquisite production of art, should have been forgot¬ 
ten ; yet such is the fact. The first stone of the building, 
as previously mentioned, was laid by Abbot Islip on 11th. 
Feb. 1503 ; but it is only supposed, that it was erected by 
the prior of St. Bartholomew’s, William Bolton. Thus it 
is, the works of genius survive even the memory of their 
authors. 

We are indebted for the wonderful specimen of architec¬ 
tural beauty and grandeur, we have been describing, to the 
desire of Henry VII. to be buried in a tomb that should 
carry down his name to posterity. His monument con¬ 
tained in his chapel, was prepared in compliance with this 
desire, and is not unworthy of the building in which it is 
contained. Its sculptor was Pietro Torregiano, a Floren¬ 
tine, and an associate with Michael Angelo ; in a quarrel 
between them relative to their superiority, Angelo received 
a blow from Torregiano on the face, that broke the bridge 
of his nose. Henry’s Tomb will be a lasting memorial of 
the skill of its designer, whatever may have been his genius 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


49 


compared with the great master with whom he quarrelled* 
It is melancholy to reflect on the fate that befei him in con¬ 
sequence of his ability. He was employed to sculpture a 
figure of the Virgin Mary for a wealthy Spaniard, but after 
completing it, his employer refused to pay the price he 
had fixed for his labour, and offered him so mean a sum, 
that in a fit of passion he broke the image. For this act he 
was thrown into the inquisition as having been guilty of 
impiety; and having, through the influence of the noble¬ 
man, been sentenced to be burnt alive, he escaped that 
horrible death by refusing to take food, and died of starva¬ 
tion. He finished Henry the Seventh’s tomb in 1518, for 
which he received the sum of fifteen hundred pounds ; an 
immense sum, when the difference in the value of money 
is considered. The tomb is surrounded by a screen, or 
brazen inclosure, which, with a very trifling alteration, 
would form an outside plan for a magnificent palace in the 
Gothic style ; the double range of windows terminating by 
a projecting arched cornice, the frieze of Quatrefoil, and the 
battlements are all suited to such a building, and the portal 
would be an exquisite window for the hall, a little short¬ 
ened. It harmonizes exceedingly well with the architec¬ 
ture of the chapel, and there is little doubt but that the 
moulds were made by the same artists as prepared the mo¬ 
dels for working the masonry. The screen is of brass, but 
the tomb itself is formed of black marble, the figures has 
reliefs, shields and pilasters are of copper gilt. During the 
civil wars much injury was done to this tomb, with many 
others : several of the small statues on the screen have 
been destroyed. Those remaining, are St. George, St. 
James, St. Bartholomew, and St. Edward. On the top of 
the tomb are placed the statues of Henry VII. and his 
Queen Elizabeth; they are laying side by side, and are 
well designed. The countenances are expressive, and the 
drapery graceful. There are six compartments containing 
figures in bas relief at the sides, that the visitor should not 
neglect to notice. The first compartment in the north side 
(the left-hand side from the entrance of the chapel) repre¬ 
sents St. Edward the Confessor, and a monk of the Bene- 

D 


50 


COMPANION TO 


dictine order. In the second compartment, St. Christopher 
is represented with the infant Saviour on his shoulder, and 
a female figure is standing by his side. The third division 
has the figure of Mary Magdalen holding in her hands the 
box of precious ointment, and standing by her is St. Bar¬ 
bara, of whom the following legend is recorded. Her fa¬ 
ther, who was a Pagan about the time when Christianity 
first "began to increase the number of its converts, had de¬ 
termined to build two baths for his accommodation. Being 
obliged to leave home, he desired St. Barbara to see that 
the work was completed during his absence according to his 
desire, but on returning he was surprised to find that three 
baths had been erected. On inquiring why this had been 
done, he was told that his daughter had embraced the 
Christian faith, and ordered the third bath to be built in 
honour of the Holy Trinity. Her father having in vain at¬ 
tempted to make her abjure her faith, was stimulated to 
persecute, and excite others to persecute, the Christians. 
Many, in consequence, suffered martyrdom, and amongst 
the rest St. Barbara, who was canonized in consequence. 
On the other side of the tomb, passing round it, the first 
compartment contains a figure of St. George and St. An¬ 
thony, who is known by his symbol, a pig’s head. The 
next division has the figures of St. John the Baptist and St. 
John the Evangelist; the former has a book in his hand on 
which is inscribed the words “ Agnus Dei.” The last 
compartment contains figures of the Virgin Mary, with our 
Saviour in her arms, and the Archangel St. Michael. The 
latter is holding a pair of scales that have been broken, but 
the devil, who is represented beneath, reaching with one of 
his claws to pull down one of the scales, would seem to 
imply that the archangel was about to determine the ba¬ 
lance of good and evil, and which Satan was endeavouring 
to prevent. 

From this description some idea may be formed of the 
magnificence of the tomb, but it can only be properly ap¬ 
preciated by an inspection of it; and if attentively consi¬ 
dered, and its beauties understood (which it is hoped the 
foregoing particulars will assist in causing to be the case), 
the time occupied in viewing it will not be regretted. 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


51 


Henry the Seventh’s chapel, although intended especially 
for himself and his successors, contains the tombs of many 
individuals in no way connected with the Royal Family. 
At the top of the Chantry, however, lie the remains of 
Edward VI., which formerly were honoured with an ele¬ 
gantly-finished monument. According to Camden, during 
the Commonwealth, however, it was broken in pieces, be¬ 
cause it contained a representation of the resurrection of 
our Saviour. 

On the south side of Henry the Seventh’s tomb is a 
small chapel, which forms the top of the south aisle, but in 
consequence of the knight’s stalls preventing the aisles be¬ 
ing seen from the body of the chapel, it appears separated. 
This little chapel, like the one on the north side, formerly 
had a grand altar-piece, the marks of which are still visible. 
Over it are arched pannels, and a row of angels with the 
king’s badges ; above them, three superb niches, whose 
ornaments and canopies are extremely rich. On the top of 
the middle one is a seated lion, and on the right the grey¬ 
hound ; to the left a dragon. The centre niche is empty, 
but the right contains a statue, about four feet high, of a 
venerable man, who reads from a book rested on the 
broken hilt of a sword. A mitred figure on the left was pro¬ 
bably intended for St. Dionysius, for he supports with 
much veneration a mitred head, which has been cut off. 
They are both noble figures, with excellent drapery, and 
faces full of expression ; the figure reading is almost as 
fresh as when new. This chapel contains the tomb of the 
Duke of Richmond and his lady. Their effigies are 
lying on the top of a marble table, under a canopy of brass, 
which is supported at the corners by figures of the four 
cardinal virtues, Prudence, Charity, Faith, and Hope. They 
are finely executed, but the appearance of the tomb is 
somewhat lessened, in consequence of the artist having 
pierced the canopy into a number of fantastic thin scrolls, 
in order to prevent its seeming too heavy. On the top is 
the figure of Fame sounding the trumpet; but if attentively 
considered, it will be seen that the position is unnatural, 
and one which could never be supported. The centre of 




52 


COMPANION TO 


gravity is without the base of the figure, so that if it was 
not fixed by one foot, it would certainly fall. The contrast 
between this Fame and the well-known graceful figure of 
Mercury, will show how much beauty depends simply on 
placing a statue, independent of the workmanship. 

In the chapel opposite, on the north side, is a monument 
likewise filling the entire space, to the memory of George 
Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, who was stabbed by Fel¬ 
ton, in the reign of Charles the First. The emblematical 
figures around are cast in brass and gilt; although erected 
in accordance with that bad taste which considered weeping 
Romans and suits of armour necessary parts of a great man’s 
monument, they are not badly designed, and the figure of 
Neptune will bear a critical notice. In this chapel, the 
same as in that on the opposite side, there is an altar and 
figures above. A fine figure holds a book, and a tame lion 
is at his feet; on each side is a priest. Where the altar 
stood is a black tablet. 

In passing out of Henry the Seventh’s chapel, we shall 
perceive on each side a small door-way that leads into 
either aisle. That on the north side (the right hand on 
leaving the chapel) contains the monument of Queen 
Elizabeth, which was erected by James I. The features 
appear to be correctly represented, and present that prim 
appearance which is observable in the best portraits of her 
that at present exist. “ Bloody Queen Mary” is likewise 
interred here. At the upper end of this aisle is a monument 
that deserves to be noticed as a curiosity, being a child in 
a cradle ; it was erected in memory of a daughter of James I., 
who died when three days old. Against the wall at the 
end is an altar, erected by Charles II. to the memory of 
Edward V. and his brother, who were murdered by the 
direction of Richard III, in the Tower of London. The 
tomb is not remarkable for any particular beauty, but is 
worthy of notice as containing the bones of the unfortunate 
princes. 

From this aisle we pass to the one on the opposite side 
of the entrance porch, where the first tomb that presents 
itself to notice, is one that must be highly gratifying to the 



WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


53 


lovers of hereditary honours, being that of Lady Marga¬ 
ret Douglas, daughter of Margaret, Queen of Scots, and 
mother of the celebrated Earl Darnley, father of King 
James I. by the unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots. The 
inscription round the tomb contains a long list of the royal 
relations of the lady who is interred below. She appears 
to have had no less than seven kings for her cousins, un¬ 
cles, &c., and six queens having similar degrees of rela¬ 
tionship. This monument is a good example of the gro¬ 
tesque style in fashion at the time it was erected. Infants, 
dressed in armour, are around the tomb, and the little la¬ 
dies in their prim bodices look like grandmothers in mini¬ 
ature. The next tomb is to the memory of Mary Queen 
of Scots, the rival and victim of Elizabeth. It is in the 
customary style of the period, and the face and head-dress 
will be familiar to the visitor. Here is also a table monu¬ 
ment, on which is a figure of the Countess of Richmond, 
mother of Henry VII. Through her benevolence forty 
poor women are supplied every Saturday afternoon, in the 
south cross of the Abbey, with a pound and a half of beef, 
and a fourpenny loaf of bread, besides receiving twopence 
each in money. The effigy of the lady is of brass gilt, and 
is one of the finest figures in the Abbey. The features, 
hands, and drapery, are excellent, and well worth the study 
of the artist: had it been placed erect, instead of lying on 
its back, it might have been pronounced unequalled. On 
the side is a graceful figure of Lady Walpole, the wife of 
Sir Robert Walpole. It is said to have been brought from 
Italy ; and were it not that the folds of the drapery are too 
numerous, would be equal to some of the finest statues in 
the Abbey. At the end of the aisle is a glass case con¬ 
taining a horrible wax figure of King Charles II., dressed in 
the robes he wore at Windsor at the installation of the 
Knights of the Garter. Underneath this case is the en¬ 
trance to the royal vault, in which lie the remains of 
Charles II,, William III., and his Queen Mary, and Queen 
Anne and her husband. This completes the description of 
the tombs in the chapel of Henry the Seventh. 


54 


COMPANION TO 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Chapel of St. Paul—Watt’s Monument—St. Edward the Confes¬ 
sor’s Chapel—Pavement and Screen—Curious Paintings—The 
Chantry—Henry the Seventh’s Tomb and Armour—Shrine of 
St. Edward — Other Tombs of Royal Persons—The Stained 
Windows. 

After leaving the chapel of Henry VII., the next one to 
which the visitor is conducted is that of St. Paul. It is 
peculiarly interesting, in consequence of containing the noble 
monument by Chantry to the memory of James Watt. A 
biography of this extraordinary man will be found in an¬ 
other portion of this work, and it is only necessary, there¬ 
fore, now to direct attention to the statue ; it was executed 
by Chantry, and is a fine specimen of the sculptor’s art. 
It is so large, that in order to place it in this chapel, it was 
necessary to take up the pavement, and dig away the earth 
from the door-way, otherwise it could not have passed 
through. The epitaph by Lord Brougham is one of the 
finest specimens of this kind of literary composition that 
has ever been written in the English language ; it is dignified 
and impressive, yet the words are simple and unaffected, and 
on most minds calculated to make a far greater impression 
than all the fulsome flattery that disgraces so many of the 
tombs around. On the right of Watt’s monument is one to 
the memory of Sir John Puckering, about which are 
placed his children. The sculptor, in order to inform the 
spectator which of them died before their father, and which 
after, has adopted the very ingenious method of making 
those who died previously, hold their heads in their hands. 
The epitaph is also deserving notice, as it shows, by con¬ 
trast, the excellence of the one to the memory of Watt. 
There is little more to attract attention in this chapel, ex¬ 
cept a punning epitaph on Sir James Fullerton, which 
seems to belie one portion of it, “ That he was a professed 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


55 


renouncer of all vanity,” if he had any share in the com¬ 
position. 


ST. EDWARD THE CONFESSOR’S CHAPEL. 

Crossing the aisle from the last chapel, a little staircase 
conducts us to St. Edward's shrine, a spot for centuries re¬ 
garded with more veneration than any other portion of the 
Abbey. It is now much delapidated, principally from the 
desire of devotees to possess some relic having induced them 
to carry away any portions of the stone, &c., they could 
break off. The pavement at one time must have been ex¬ 
ceedingly curious and beautiful; it was laid down by the 
Abbot Ware, who also formed that before the altar, and 
consists of large dark-coloured stones cut into circles inter¬ 
secting others, triangles upon triangles, and many other 
curious forms. The foolish practice, however, of stealing 
relics, has sadly disfigured this fine pavement. 

The screen which ornaments this chapel, is considered 
to be one of the most interesting specimens of early art at 
present existing, and is supposed to have been erected in 
the fourteenth century. It consists of fourteen divisions of 
sculptured figures, which, although extremely rude in 
workmanship, are interesting on account of their antiquity, 
and as illustrating many events in the life of St. Edward. 
The first division contains the trial of Queen Emma; the 
second, the birth of Edward ; the third, his coronation ; the 
fourth, the manner in which he was prevented from conti¬ 
nuing an opposite tax, called “ dane gelt,” by seeing the 
devil dance upon the bags of money he had collected by it; 
the fifth compartment shows how he reproved the thief who 
robbed his treasury. Of this event Mr. Brayley quotes the 
following account:—“ Whilst Edward was one day laying 
musing on his bed, a youthful domestic entered the cham¬ 
ber, and thinking the monarch was asleep, he went up to 
a coffer (which Hugoline, the king’s chamberlain, had ne¬ 
gligently left open), and taking out a quantity of money, 
deposited it in his bosom, and quitted the apartment. 
Having placed the stolen treasure in security, he returned 


56 


COMPANION TO 


a second time and did the like ; and not being yet contented 
with his booty, he came a third time, and was again kneel¬ 
ing at the chest, when the king, who knew his chamberlain 
to be at hand, but wished the thief to make his escape, ex¬ 
claimed, ‘ You are too covetous, youth ; take what you 
have and fly; for if Hugoline come, he will not leave you 
a single doit.’ The pilferer immediately fled, without be¬ 
ing pursued. Shortly afterwards Hugoline came back, and 
perceiving how considerable a sum had been stolen through 
his negligence, he turned pale and trembled, sighing vehe¬ 
mently at the same time. The king hearing him, rose 
from his bed, and affecting to be ignorant of what had 
happened, inquired the cause of his perturbation, which 
Hugoline relating, ‘ Be at peace,’ replied Edward, ‘ per¬ 
haps he that has taken it has more need of it than ourselves. 
Let him have it; what remains is sufficient for us.” In the 
sculpture the king is reclining on his bed, and the thief is 
kneeling at the money chest. The remaining compart¬ 
ments contain the miraculous appearance of the Saviour to 
St. Edward. The story of the drowning of the Danish 
king, by which the invasion of England was prevented; 
the quarrel between the boys Tosti and Harold, predicting 
their respective fates; the Confessor’s vision of the Seven 
Sleepers ; his vision of St. John the Evangelist in the habit 
of a pilgrim; the story of curing the eyes of the blind by 
washing in dirty water by the Evangelist; that person de¬ 
livering the ring to the king, which he had given to St. 
John as an alms when he met him, without knowing it, in 
the form of a pilgrim ; lastly, the haste made by the king 
to complete the foundation of the Abbey, in consequence 
of a message from the saint foretelling his death. All these 
figures are in bold relief, and the principal of them are 
about a foot high. The design of the lower part of the 
screen is extremely elegant. 

Over the tomb of Richard II. is a wooden canopy, un¬ 
derneath which are the remains of what, according to Mr. 
Nightingale, have been some exquisitely fine paintings. 
The canopy is divided into four compartments ; those over 
the heads and feet of the effigies contain representations of 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


57 


angels supporting the monarch’s arms, and those of his 
queen, but they are nearly obliterated by age ; the shields 
are all that remain visible. The second compartment, from 
the head of the effigies, has what was intended by the ar¬ 
tist, for a representation of the Almighty, habited as a ve¬ 
nerable old man in a close garment! His hand is in the 
act of blessing, but this is hardly discernible. In the next 
division is our Saviour, seated by the Virgin Mother. The 
Virgin is in a most graceful and expressive manner leaning 
towards the Saviour, with her hands across her breast. The 
countenance, when minutely examined, will be found still 
very beautiful, although much injured by time. 

At the West end of this chapel, underneath the chantry, 
is the tomb of Henry V., over the arch of the gate which 
divided it from the chapel and the front of the chantry, is a 
profusion of exquisitely rich Gothic workmanship of the most 
delicate texture. On each side are statues, the size of life, 
representing saints in speaking attitudes. 

From their situation in the front of the two octagonal 
towers, that contain staircases leading to the chantry, they 
are particularly striking. The tomb of Henry V. is re¬ 
markable from its having upon it, his effigy, without a 
head. It is said to have been originally formed of silver, 
and the attendant informs visitors, that during the civil war 
between Charles I and his parliament, it was taken from 
the monument and coined into money; antiquaries however 
have ascertained, that it was not stolen till the reign of 
Henry the Eighth. In this chapel is also contained, a por¬ 
tion of the armour of Henry the V which it is said, he 
wore at the battle of Agincourt. It consists of a plain rusty 
iron helmet, and shield, without any decorations, and a por¬ 
tion of his saddle. The helmet is placed on a wooden beam, 
that is fixed between the entrance towers, and the shield 
and saddle, are against the columns at the sides. There is 
another shield, and also a sword, preserved in this chapel; 
they belong to Edward the third, and were used by him 
when he invaded France. The sword is seven feet long, 
and was therefore probably a sword of state, and not in¬ 
tended as a weapon of offence. 


58 


COMPANION TO 


The shrine, or tomb of Edward the Confesser, is in the 
centre of the chapel. It was erected by Henry III. on the 
canonization of the saint. He was the last of the Saxon race 
of kings in this country ; and in consequence of having 
been entirely under the direction of the monks during his 
life-time, they extolled his name so highly after his death, 
for every virtue which in that rude age was considered to 
dignify our nature, that he was made a saint of by the 
Pope; who issued a bull to the Abbot of Westminster, 
directing that the body of Edward should be honoured on 
earth “as his soul is glorified in heaven.” In consequence 
of these proceedings, his shrine was supposed to possess a 
peculiar degree of sanctity, and offerings of the richest kind 
were presented at the altar. So valuable were the jewels, 
&c. which decorated it that when Henry the Third was press¬ 
ed for money, he obtained a few of the Abbot to pledge 
them to some foreigners, and realized an immense sum ; 
their value was estimated at nearly 2600/. of the money of 
that period, equal to about 50,000/. at the present time. 
The shrine was believed to have peculiar virtues attached to 
it; most extraordinary cures of every kind of disease, 
were said to have been wrought by visiting it; and we need 
not therefore feel surprised at the liberality of the devotees. 

Brayley says, that such great sanctity was attached to 
this shrine, that a part of the stone basement seat, on the 
east side of the south transept, has been worn into a deep 
hollow, by the feet of devout Catholics, who attended here 
early in the morning, and who from this point could just 
obtain a view of the upper division of the shrine. It is 
still also within the recollection of some aged members of 
the church , that previously to the French revolution, the 
very dust and sweepings of the shrine and chapel of St. Ed¬ 
ward were preserved and exported to Spain and Portuqal in 
barrels. But even in that trade, adulterations were prac¬ 
tised, and much unholy dust, swept from other chapels 
was mingled with the rubbish of this shrine. 

Thus the monks were able to make as much, or more 
use of the saint when dead, than even while he lived; and 
they had good reason for keeping up the belief of the supe¬ 
rior sanctity of his tomb. 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


59 


Around the shrine of the Confessor lie the remains of 
many of the sovereigns of this country, whose military 
achievements have given a lustre to their names that is 
hardly diminished even in the present day. Edward 
the First and his Queen, the celebrated Eleanor; Henry 
the Third ; Henry the Fifth, and his consort; Edward the 
Third and Philippa; and Richard the Second and his Queen, 
have each of them a tomb within this chapel. When first 
erected, they were no doubt exceedingly elegant, but now 
they present little that is worthy of attention, except as 
the mementoes of bygone splendour. An immense sum 
was expended by Edward III. in erecting the monument 
to his wife Philippa, and round it were placed as ornaments 
brass effigies of all the kings, queens, and nobility, who 
were related to her by blood or marriage. Her figure is 
in alabaster, and is very large for a female. The statue of 
Henry III. is also deserving of notice. It is in a very 
perfect state, and is well executed. Queen Eleanor’s tomb, 
has a peculiar degree of interest attached to it, from the 
amiable and affectionate character she is said to have borne. 
Her effigy is formed of Petworth marble, and is the work 
of a good artist. The face has a peculiar degree of sweet¬ 
ness imparted to it, that is not excelled by any monument 
in the Abbey. Although her body is buried here, her heart 
was interred in the choir of the friars’ pendicant, in Lon¬ 
don. Similar circumstances frequently occurred, and it was 
for a long time supposed that the body of Edward the 
First, was not contained in his tomb. The society of an¬ 
tiquaries, however, having reason to believe that such was 
the case, obtained permission to open it, and in the month 
of May, 1770, the Dean of Westminster and several mem¬ 
bers of the society had the monument inspected in their 
presence. “ On lifting up the head of the tomb, the 
royal body was found wrapped in a strong thick linen cloth, 
waxed on the inside ; the head and face were covered 
w r ith a “ Sundarium,” or a face cloth of crimson sarcenet 
wrapped into three folds, conformable to the napkin used by 
our Saviour on the way to his execution, as we are told by 
the church of Rome ; on flinging open the external mantle 


60 


COMPANION TO 


the corpse was discovered in all the ensigns of majesty 
richly habited. The body was wrapped in a fine Cere cloth, 
closely fitted to every part, even to the fingers and face. 
Over the Cere cloth was a tunic of red silk and a mask ; 
above that a stole of thick white tissue crossed the breast; 
and on this, at six inches distance from each other, quarter 
foils of filligee work, of gilt metal, set with false stones, 
imitating rubies, sapphires, amethysts, &c., and the in¬ 
tervals between the quarterfoils on the stole, were powdered 
with minute white beads, tacked down in a most elegant 
embroidery, in form of what is called the true lovers knot. 

' Above these habits was the royal mantle of rich crimson 
satin, fastened on the left shoulder with a magnificent 
“ fibula ” of gilt metal richly chased, and ornamented with 
four pieces of red, and four pieces of blue transparent 
paste, and twenty-four more pearls. The corpse from the 
waist downward, was covered with a rich cloth of figured 
gold, which reached down to the feet, and was tacked be¬ 
neath them. On the back of each hand was a quarterfoil, 
like those on the stole. In the king’s right hand was a 
sceptre, with a cross of copper gilt, and of elegant work¬ 
manship ; reaching to the right shoulder. In the left hand 
were the rod and dove, which passed over the shoulder 
and reached his ear. The dove stood on a ball placed on 
three ranges of oak leaves of enamelled green ; the dove 
white enamel. On the head was a crown charged with tre¬ 
foils made of gilt metal. The head was lodged in a stone 
coffin, always observable in those receptacles of the dead. 
The corpse was habited in conformity to ancient usage, 
even as early as the time of the founder of the Abbey, the 
Saxon king Sebert.” The practice of embalming the 
sovereign in Cere cloth is still continued, and it gives an 
additional point to the word of the poet. 

u Why this ado in earthing up a carcase 

That’s fall’n into disgrace, and in the nostril 

Smells horrible ?” 

Besides the objects of interest we have described, the 
painted windows are also well worthy of attention, both on 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


61 


account of their great age, and from being specimens of the 
great degree of excellence to which the art had attained 
some centuries ago. It is commonly supposed that the art 
of staining glass is lost ; hut this is erroneous. We possess 
the knowledge of producing nearly every colour in glass, 
that is to be found in the old windows of former ages, but 
in consequence of the art having little or no patronage, it 
has not received the degree of attention that it formerly did. 
During the middle ages, when men of wealth left their 
money at their decease for the purpose of building, or beau¬ 
tifying Abbeys, and Cathedrals, every possible encourage¬ 
ment was offered to the artist to render his work as perfect 
and beautiful as possible, and this will easily account for 
the great perfection to which it then attained ; but as soon 
as the religious enthusiasm that prompted such exertions 
had died away, the stimulus was lost; there was little or 
no occasion for many of the artists who had once been so 
highly patronised, and hence the art declined. The windows 
in this chapel are described as being fine specimens of the 
perfection to which painting on glass had attained at the 
time they were made. The glass is reported as being not 
less than the eighth of an inch thick, while the figures which 
are formed out of an innumerable variety of small pieces, 
cut so as to compose with proper shades of colour the form 
and drapery of the persons represented. In the legend 
of Edward the Confessor and the pilgrim, the deep and 
brilliant colours of the glass, the beautiful arrangement of 
the drapery, and the noble expression given to the coun¬ 
tenances of the figures, well deserve the admiration with 
which they must be viewed by a lover of the fine arts. 




62 


COMPANION TO 


CHAPTER IX. 


The Coronation Chair and Fatal Stone—Description and History 
of the Chair—Prophetic or Fatal Stone—Tradition respecting 
it—Brought from Scotland by Edward I.—Reverence paid to 
it by the People of Scotland. 

Against the screen in St. Edward’s Chapel, that has just 
been described, are usually placed the Coronation Chairs. 
In appearance they are much alike, but here the resem¬ 
blance ends. One of them containing a relic—the cele¬ 
brated Scone stone, that gives it an extreme degree of in¬ 
terest in the eyes of the antiquary, the other being merely 
a chair that was made for Queen Mary, the consort of 
William III., at the time she was crowned. As the Coro¬ 
nation Chair containing the Scone stone is one of the most 
curious relics in the Abbey, we shall minutely describe it, 
as well as some of the important events with which it has 
been connected. Mr. Brayley has devoted the greatest 
share of time and attention on this stone, and we therefore 
refer to him principally for the following particulars re¬ 
specting it. 

The Coronation Chair is composed of oak, and is still 
firm and sound, though much disfigured by wanton muti¬ 
lations and the effects of time. The mode of its construc¬ 
tion so decidedly accords with the general character of the 
architecture of Edward the First’s reign, that no hesitation 
could be felt by any one conversant with the subject, in 
ascribing it to that period, even were there no document 
extant to prove the conjecture correct. Whatever may 
have become of the original chair, in which Kenneth is re¬ 
ported to have had the stone enclosed, and which does not 
appear to have been ever brought into England, it is cer¬ 
tain that the present chair was purposely made for the re¬ 
ception of this highly-prized relic of ancient customs and 
sovereign power. The fact is rendered evident by the 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


63 


“ wardrobe accounts” of Edward’s time, which have been 
published under the direction of the Society of Antiquaries. 
Among the entries of the year 1300, are the following par¬ 
ticulars relating to a “ step,” which had been recently 
made :—“ To Master Walter, the painter, for the costs and 
expenses incurred by him, about making one step at the 
foot of the new Chair (in which is the stone from Scotland), 
set up near the altar, before St. Edward’s Shrine, in the 
Abbatial Church at Westminster, in pursuance of the order 
of the King in the month of March; and for the wages of 
the carpenter and painter for painting the said step ; and for 
gold and divers colours brought for the painting of the 
same, together with the making of one case for covering the 
said Chair, as appears from the particulars in the Wardrobe 
Book, 11. 19s. 7 d.” 

The Chair is in shape similar to the high-backed chairs 
which were in fashion in this country about a century ago. 
It is six feet seven inches in height, twenty-five inches in 
depth, and twenty-eight inches in breadth, measured within- 
side, across the seat. It is a wide elbow-chair, with a flat 
seat; and nine inches from the ground immediately under 
it, is placed the celebrated stone. It rests on a kind of 
middle frame, and is supported at the corners by four lions 
couchant. All around, on a level with the stone, was ori¬ 
ginally ornamented with beautiful tracery, in quarterly di¬ 
visions, each containing a heater shield (emblazoned with 
arms), in accordance with the fashion of the pointed arch 
which prevailed in the thirteenth century. There were 
originally ten of these divisions, and four of them with the 
shields remained till the Coronation of George IV. ; but 
they were subsequently stolen, and even the tracery itself 
is entirely gone in front, so that the stone is now fully 
exposed to view. The back is terminated by a high pe¬ 
diment, along each angle of which were five crockets on 
Scotia, or concave moulding. Below the latter, on each 
side of the pediment, is a smooth flat division, about three 
inches broad, that once contained decorations, presumed to 
be armorial bearings, emblazoned in small plates of metal 
of different sizes and forms, alternately small and large, the 


64 


COMPANION TO 


cement for tlie adhesion of which still remains. The whole 
chair has been completely covered with gilding and orna¬ 
mental work, including a regal figure, and a variety of birds, 
foliage, and drapery, much of which may yet be distin¬ 
guished on a close inspection. The thickness of the whit¬ 
ing ground, laid on to relieve the leaf gold, may be seen in 
almost every part. At the back of the seat within side, are 
some faint traces of a male figure, sitting in a royal robe, a 
small portion of the bottom of which, together with a foot 
and shoe (the latter somewhat sharp pointed), are still 
visible, but they were much more so within memory. Be¬ 
low the elbow, on the left side, is distinguishable a running 
pattern of oak leaves and acorns, with red-breasts and 
falcons on the oaken sprays in alternate order; a different 
pattern of a diapered work is shown on the right, or oppo¬ 
site side, as well as within the tiers of pannelled arches, 
which adorn the outer sides or back of the chair. These 
rich ornaments are so much discoloured by the ravages of 
time, or otherwise damaged by wanton mischief, that it re¬ 
quires an attentive eye to trace them with effect; the best 
way to do this, is to place the head close to the seat, and 
then to look upwards with minute and fixed attention. 
Most of the above ornaments seem to have been wrought 
by means of minute punctures made in the whiting ground, 
after the flat gilding was executed ; other parts appear as 
though they had been impressed or stamped with an instru¬ 
ment. Within the spandrils connected w r ith the upper tier 
of arches at the back, were formerly, according to Mr. Car¬ 
ter, enamelled ornaments representing foliage ; but the or¬ 
naments thus alluded to were not enamelled ; they consisted 
of small sprigs, depicted on a metallic ground, either gilt or 
silvered, and covered with plain or coloured glass , as may 
yet be seen in three or four places. The drapering within 
the panels, as far as can now be traced, was composed of 
running patterns of vine and oak branches. Amongst the 
other disfigurements of this chair, many nails, large and 
small, with tacks and brass pins, have been driven all over 
the angles, both on the inner and outer sides, most proba¬ 
bly to fasten the cloth of gold or tissue with which it has 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


65 


been covered at the times of coronations. The lions which 
support the chair have also been much injured at different 
times ; a new face was obliged to be made for one of them 
previous to the coronation of George IV. They are but 
clumsily executed, and are very defective in point of form. 



Notwithstanding the assertion of Walsingham, that Ed¬ 
ward I. gave this chair for the use of the officiating priests 
of Westminster, there is every reason to believe that it has 
been regularly used as the Coronation Chair of all our 
sovereigns, from the time of Edward II. Strutt gives a 





































































































































































66 


COMPANION TO 


representation of the latter monarch in a chair of state, 
which was evidently intended for that under notice. Cam¬ 
den calls it “ the Royal Chair, or throne,” and Selden, 
speaking of this venerable remain, employs the words, 
“ on it are the coronations of our sovereigns.” Ogilby, in 
his account of the Coronation of Charles II., expressly de¬ 
signates it by the name of St. Edward's ancient Chair, 
which, he says (covered all over with cloth of gold), was 
first placed on the right side of the altar; and, at a subse¬ 
quent part of the ceremony, removed into “ the middle of 
the aisle, and set right over against the altar, whither the 
king went and sate down in it, and then the Archbishop 
brought St. Edward's crown from the altar, and put it on 
his head.” James II. was crowned in the same chair, as 
appears from Sandford ; so were also William of Orange, 
Queen Anne, and all our succeeding sovereigns to the pre¬ 
sent time. 

During the preparations for the coronation of George IV., 
the frame work of this chair was strengthened with iron 
braces, and the Prophetic Stone more securely fixed. At 
the same time the old crockets and turrets were sawn off, 
and new ones of a different character substituted under the 
direction of the upholsterer employed by the Board of 
Works! Soon after the ceremony, however, the new 
crockets, &c., were taken off, and the chair left in a more 
delapidated condition than before. 

We have drawn thus largely from the facts collected by 
the antiquary respecting this chair,'' not merely because it 
is one of the most curious relics of by-gone days to be 
found within the Abbey, being nearly 600 years old, but 
because it contains a relic to which greater importance was 
attached in olden time than to any that we have now exist¬ 
ing. This is the Prophetic Stone , brought to this country 
from Scone, in Scotland, by Edward I. Mr. Brayley has 
written the most complete history of the stone that is ex¬ 
tant, and to him, therefore, we are principally indebted for 
the particulars concerning it. The venerable stone is 
placed in the frame work of the chair beneath the seat, and 
has at each end a circular iron handle affixed to a staple let 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


67 


into the stone itself, so that it may be Lifted up. It is of 
an oblong form, but irregular, measuring twenty-six inches 
in length, sixteen inches and three-quarters in breadth, and 
ten inches and a half in thickness. As far as can be ascer¬ 
tained from inspecting it in its present enclosed situation, it 
bears much resemblance to the Dun stones, such as are 
brought from Dundee in Scotland, and used for various 
purposes. It is a sandy granular stone, a sort of debris of 
sienite, chiefly quartz, with light and reddish-coloured felt- 
spar, and also light and dark mica, with probably some 
dark green hornblend intermixed. Some fragments of a 
reddish grey slate, or schist, are likewise included in its 
composition. On the upper side (but hidden by the seat 
of the chair), there is also a dark brownish red-coloured 
flinty pebble, which, from its hardness, has not been cut 
through, though immediately crossed by the indent above 
mentioned. Our early historians have described this stone 
very inaccurately, and if we are to conclude that many of 
the important facts related by them were recorded with as 
little inquiry, it will tend materially to shake our belief in 
their accuracy. The most cursory view would at once 
convince the spectator that the Prophetic Stone is not 
marble, and yet we have the following descriptions of it by 
the undermentioned celebrated historians. Fordun calls it 
“ a marble chair, carved with ancient art by skilful work¬ 
men;” and again, “ a marble stone wrought like a chair.” 
Brece styles it “ a chair of marble,” and “ the fatal mar¬ 
ble.” Bishop Leslie, “ a marble chair;” and Holinshed, 
“ a chair of marble,” and a “ marble stone.” It is obvious 
that all the above writers, as well as many more who call 
this rude unwrought stone “ a chair,” refer to the same 
object, and what that really is, the preceding description 
will clearly testify. The inaccuracy of those writers can 
only be accounted for by supposing that they used the 
word “ marble” as synonymous with “ stone,” or that 
they each borrowed the description from a common source, 
without making inquiry whether it was correct or not. 
There is no reason to believe that the stone was ever lost, 
or we might be inclined to suppose that one had been sub¬ 
stituted in its place. 


68 


COMPANION TO 


Tradition intimates that this stone was originally brought 
from Egypt, and it is a remarkable fact, when mineralogi- 
cally considered, that the substances composing it accord in 
the grains, with the sienite of Pliny, the same as Pompey s 
Pillar at Alexandria; but the particles are much smaller. 
Geologists will perhaps determine how far this may agree 
with any formation succeeding the scienite in the Egyptian 
quarries. The stone was believed to have been introduced 
into Egypt by the Israelites, and to have been the very one 
on which Jacob rested his head, when he saw the Vision of 
the Ladder reaching to heaven, with the angels ascending 
and descending in the plains of Luz. Its known history 
carries it hack to a period so remote, that this legend was 
scarcely necessary to procure for it respect and veneration, 
and whether it were originally an Egyptian or a Celtic 
monument, it furnishes a very remarkable proof of the 
wide diffusion of a most ancient practice observed in the 
inauguration of kings, namely, the placing them upon or 
near to an elevated stone, at the moment of investing them 
with the plenitude of regal power. The custom had its 
origin in the east, where it spread extensively, and is al¬ 
luded to in many passages of the Old Testament, and it 
certainly became general among the Celtic and Scandina¬ 
vian nations. It was probably the monks of Westminster 
who first gave currency to the opinion that this stone was 
Jacob’s pillar ; for the most ancient record in which it was 
thus described, was a tablet, formerly suspended above the 
chair in St. Edward’s chapel. 

The fullest account of this stone given by any single 
writer, is that by Fordun, who in a work written by him 
in the reign of Edward III., has devoted an entire chapter 
to its early history; the substance of his statement is as 
follows:— 

“ There was a certain king of Spain, of the Scottish race, 
called Milo, having many sons ; one, however, named 
Simon Brek, he loved above all the others, although he 
was neither the elder nor the heir. His father, therefore, 
sent him to Ireland with an army, and gave him a marble 
chair , carved with very ancient art by skilful workmen, in 
which the kings of Spain of the Scottish nation, were wont 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


69 


to set when inaugurated, from which cause it was carefully 
brought into his region, as if it were an anchor. This 
Simon having reached the above island with a great army, 
reduced it under his dominion, and reigned in it many 
years. He placed the aforesaid stone, or chair, at Themor, 
the royal residence, a noted place, at which his successors 
were accustomed to reside, distinguished with kingly ho¬ 
nours. Gathelus, as some say, brought this chair, with 
other regal ornaments, with him from Egypt into Spain. 
Others relate that Simon Brek, having anchored on the 
Irish coast, was forced by contrary winds to withdraw his 
anchors from the billowy surge, and whilst strenuously 
labouring to that end, a stone in the form of a chair, cut 
out of marble, was hauled up with the anchor into the 
ship. Receiving this, both as a precious boon from hea¬ 
ven, and as a certain presage of future dominion, he, trem¬ 
bling with excessive joy, adored his gods for the gift, as if 
they had absolutely appointed him to the kingdom and the 
crown. It was there prophesied, likewise, that he and his 
posterity should reign wherever that stone should be found; 
and this divination some one made into a metrical prophesy, 
which was very popular among his people.” 

Mr. Taylor, in his “ Glory of Regality,” says, that an 
ancient Irish prophecy existed to the effect, that the 
possession of this stone was essential to the preservation of 
regal power. It runs thus :—“ The race of Scots of the 
true blood, if this prophecy be not false, unless they pos¬ 
sess the stone of fate, shall fail to obtain regal power.” 
King Kenneth caused the leonine verses following to be 
engraved on the chair ; they are thus rendered by Cam¬ 
den :— 

u Or Fate is blind, 

Or Scots shall find, 

Where’er this stone 
A royal throne.” 

These lines on the stone were in Latin, and the prophecy 
reconciled many haughty Scotchmen to the union in 
Queen Anne’s reign. It is remarkable, that since the ex¬ 
tinction of the Stuart family, the prophecy is fulfilled in 


70 


COMPANION TO 


the claims of the house of Brunswick ; the reigning mo¬ 
narch being no tv the legitimate heir of both lines. 

Holinshed, in his chronicle, gives a long account of Ga- 
thelus, just mentioned; who is there said to have been a 
Greek, “ the son of Cecrops, who builded the city of 
Athens.” After leaving Greece, Galethus resided some 
time in Egypt, where he married Scota , the daughter of 
king Pharaoh ; but being alarmed by the judgment pro¬ 
nounced by Moses, who was then in Egpyt, he quitted that 
country with many followers and landed in Spain ; here he 
“ builded a citie which he named Brigantia,” yet not with¬ 
out great opposition from the native Spaniards. Having 
made peace with his neighbours, “ he sat upon his marble 
stone in Brigantia, where he gave laws and ministered jus¬ 
tice unto his people, thereby to maintain them in wealth 
and quietness. This stone was in fashion like a seat or 
chair, having such a fatal destiny (as the Scots say) fol¬ 
lowing it, that wherever it should be placed, there should 
the Scotishmen reigne and have the supreme governaunce.” 
From Galethus and the other invaders who accompanied 
him, Ireland received the name of Scotia, which it retained 
till within a century of the English invasion. Fergus, a 
descendant of Simon Brek, before mentioned, being com¬ 
pelled to leave Ireland in consequence of the civil wars, 
led a body of emigrants to Argylshire ; and brought with 
him the stone of destiny, which he deposited at Dunstaff- 
nage, about three hundred years before the birth of Christ. 
All his descendants were installed on this stone, and it was 
believed that when the rightful heir took his seat, the stone 
emitted loud harmonious sounds ; but that it remained 
silent whenever a pretender attempted to be crowned ! 

Whatever may have been the real early history of this 
stone, disregarding altogether the statement that it was 
brought from Egypt or even from Spain, as above men¬ 
tioned, there can be little doubt but that it was intimately 
connected with some of the* most impressive religious ob¬ 
servances of the early Irish, and that from them it was 
transferred into Scotland. We learn from the Scriptures, 
that the earliest altars were made from unhewn stone; and 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


71 


the worship of stone pillars was extremely common in the 
East. The assembly of a nation was often held in a circle 
of stones ; Homer in the Odessy relates how— 

“ The old man early rose, walked forth, and sate, 

On polished stone, before his palace gate ; 

With unguent smooth the lucid marble shone, 

Where ancient Neleus sate, a rustic throne .'* 

Among the northern nations, the practice was to form a 
circle of large stones, commonly twelve in number, in the 
middle of which was one set up much larger than the rest. 
This was the royal seat, and the nobles occupied those 
surrounding it, which served also as a barrier to keep off 
the people who stood without. Here the leading men of 
the kingdom delivered their suffrages, and placed the king 
on his seat of dignity ; from such places afterwards, jus¬ 
tice was freely dispensed. The knowledge we possess of 
that wonderful antiquity of our country, Stonehenge, in 
Wiltshire, being used for religious purposes by the ancient 
Britons, is another proof of the great reverence paid to the 
unhewn stone under certain circumstances. 

The prophetic stone remained in the possession of the 
Scotch till the reign of Edward I., when that monarch 
having defeated John Baliol in a desperate battle near 
Dunbar, in April 1296, and quickly subduing all Scotland, 
resolved to deprive the nation of every vestage of its in¬ 
dependence, and accordingly removed this venerated trea¬ 
sure to England, along with the other regal valuables. 
Hardyng in his ryming chronicle says, 

“And as he came homeward by Scone away, 

The Regal, there of Scotland then he brought, 

And sent it forth to Westminster; for ay 
To be there in a chair clenely wrought, 

For a mass priest to syt in, when he ought. 

Which there was standing beside the Shrine, 

In a chair of oldtyme made full fyne.” 

Edward I., when he returned to London, offered the 
regalia of Scotland, amongst which was the famous stone, 
on the shrine of the Confessor, in acknowledgment of the 




74 


COMPANION TO 


miral is represented as ascending, whilst the Royal George, 
in which he was drowned, is sinking. His figure is al¬ 
most devoid of drapery, and has been sculptured exceed¬ 
ingly well. It stands out from the marble slab from 
which it is cut, in fine relief, and will repay an attentive 
inspection. On the right-hand side, and nearly opposite, 
is the most beautiful monument in the Abbey, if not in 
the world; it is to the memory of Joseph Gascoigne 
Nightingale, and his wife Lady Elizabeth, and was 
sculptured by Roubiliac. It is his masterpiece ; and for 
correctness of arrangement, attention to minutia, and truth 
of expression, is unequalled. The lower part represents a 
sepulchre, the doors of which are open, and from them has 
partially issued the figure of a skeleton with a mantle 
around it, and holding in its hand a long dart, which it 
appears to he in the act of throwing at the figure of Lady 
Nightingale, who is dying in the arms of her husband. 
They are placed on a marble slab above, and the whole of 
the figures are nearly the size of life. The figure of the 
skeleton was pronounced by the celebrated John Hunter, 
the anatomist, to be a perfect representation of nature, and 
its appearance—issuing stealthily from the tomb, partially 
covered with drapery, and grasping the dart at the end 
with such eagerness to hurl it at his victim as to disarrange 
the feathers, is w r ell calculated to convey a vivid impression 
of the “ king of terrors/’ The expression of the husband’s 
face, too, could only he produced by a Roubiliac ; “ his 
horror and eager motion can only he described by such 
actors as Garrick was and Kemble is,” was the critique of 
a lover of the arts a few years since, and is perhaps the 
best description that can he given. The figure of Lady 
Nightingale is also a fine work of art; the foot and hands 
are beautifully sculptured, and her position is the concep¬ 
tion of a man of genius. It is almost impossible to con¬ 
vey an adequate idea of the impression produced on the 
mind of the spectator by this monument; but its effect 
may be conceived from the fact that it is generally the one 
best remembered after leaving the Abbey. Although the 
tomb is erected to the memory of Mr. and Lady Nigh tin- 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


75 


gale, the monument records the death of the lady only. 
Against the East wall of this chapel is a tomb to the 
memory of Susanna Jane Davison, in which the artist 
has copied the idea of the above, hut it is badly expressed. 
Near it is the tomb of the Countess of Kerry, and of 
the Earl her husband; it is deserving notice for a most 
affectionate epitaph by the husband, “ whom she rendered 
during thirty-one years the happiest of mankind.” For a 
long period after her death, the Earl was in the habit of 
constantly visiting the tomb and giving vent to his grief. 
At the bottom of the lady’s epitaph, in large letters, are 
the words, “ in death they were not divided The Earl 
was buried in the same coffin as his lady upon his decease, 
which took place about nineteen years from the date of 
hers; he had previously retired from the world, and 
passed the remainder of his days in piety and seclusion. 
It is not often that a tomb recording such long continued 
affection can be found. In this chapel, against the wall 
in which the door is placed, is a plain marble slab to the 
memory of the great philosopher, Sir Humphrey Davy. 
It is as unassuming as him whose death it records ; hut 
will not on that account be regarded with less veneration 
by the lover of science and modest worth. The bust of 
Mathew Baillie, the eminent surgeon, by Chantry, will 
likewise not be passed by unregarded. The other tombs 
do not require description, their beauties and defects are of 
a kind that it can be easily appreciated. 


CHAPTER XI. 

A critical description of the Monuments in the North and South 
aisles, and West end of the nave.—Appearance of the Abbey 
from this part.—Monuments in the North-west aisle. 

The tomb of General Wolfe separates the chapel just 
described from the North aisle. The General is repre¬ 
sented dying at the moment of victory, in the arms of a sol- 




76 


COMPANION TO 


dier, the expression of whose face is very striking. The 
sorrow depicted in the countenance of the General’s high¬ 
land serjeant is not less so ; and the alto-relief representing 
the landing at Quebec, conveys a lively picture of the 
difficulties the troops had to contend with before they 
could effect a landing. The admirer of military glory will 
pause before this tomb, to the memory of one whose he¬ 
roism well deserved the national tribute of respect it has 
received, by the erection of this monument. 

On the face of a tomb that covers the remains of the 
Countess of Lancaster, are the mouldering remnants of 
some paintings, which would not probably attract atten¬ 
tion unless pointed out. They are curious specimens of 
the ornaments with which it was formerly the custom to 
adorn the last resting places of the rich and noble. A 
similar species of decoration is to be seen on the monu¬ 
ment of Edmund, Duke of Lancaster, placed near the 
above. 

Passing several, that of Lord Eland’s wife, Lady Gou- 
vernet, will attract attention from the peculiar appearance 
of the face of a mourner weeping over her. The light falls 
upon the figure in such a way that the nose appears like a 
hole in the face, and completely destroys the effect in¬ 
tended to be produced. 

The other monuments principally deserving notice, are 
those of the Earl of Pembroke, Aymer de Valence ; Ann 
of Cleves, the wife of Henry VIII. ; Anne, Queen of 
Richard III. ; and Sebert, the founder of the Abbey. 

Passing by Poet’s Corner, which has been previously 
described, the visitor now enters the South aisle ; the first 
monument in which, requiring a detailed notice, is that of 
Sir Cloudesley Siiovell. It is of the composite order, 
and the knight is represented reclining on a cushion under 
a canopy of State. This has been ridiculed by Addison as 
a most inappropriate situation for an English admiral, and 
the criticism is just. The figures are not badly executed, 
and at the base is a spirited representation of a storm, in 
which a ship is striking on a rock, and being wrecked ; 
showing the cause of the admiral’s death. 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


77 


The next monument, to the memory of William 
W ragg, Esq., also represents a shipwreck, by which this 
gentleman lost his life. His son was saved in a wonder¬ 
ful manner on a large package, supported by a black slave, 
who was cast on shore off the coast of Holland. The 
sculpture is well done. 

The amiable Dr. Isaac Watts has a small tribute to 
his memory erected here. A bust of him is placed above, 
and underneath in a circle he is sitting in deep contempla¬ 
tion, while an angel is represented explaining to him the 
wonders of the creation. The admirers of this good man 
will not pass by without bestowing on his tomb at least a 
momentary glance. 

The next, to the memory of the unfortunate Major 
Andre, is of statuary marble in basso relievo, and repre¬ 
sents the interior of the American General’s tent, with the 
Major bearing a flag of truce to solicit his pardon ; or that 
he might be put to death as a soldier, and not die by the 
hands of the common executioner. The figures have been 
much injured, which is said to have been the consequence 
of national feeling ; considering that it is not an old monu¬ 
ment, it is certainly surprising that it should have been so 
mutilated, unless intentionally. 

Colonel Townsend’s monument consists of a pyra¬ 
mid of red and white marble, against which are two 
Indians in the complete costume of their country ; the one 
holding a gun, the other a tomahawk. They support a 
sarcophagus, on which, in basso relievo, is a representation 
of the field of battle and the death of the colonel. The 
figures, particularly those of the Indians, are deserving no¬ 
tice. 

Near the last is one to General Hargrave, by Rou¬ 
biliac, of which Malcolm says, “ Europe can barely show 
a parallel/’ It exhibits the resurrection of a body from a 
sarcophagus, and of a conflict between Time and Death, in 
which the former proving victorious, is in the act of break¬ 
ing the dart of his antagonist. The expression of Har¬ 
grave’s face is very striking; it is a mixture of wonder and 
joy ; every limb seems to strain forward, and every muscle 


78 


COMPANION TO 


is exerted to escape from the grasp of Death. The truth 
with which the pyramid is executed also deserves praise ; a 
plain surface is converted by the chisel into a mass of stone 
falling in every direction. The figure of Time is good ; and 
the old broken feathers of his wings, torn with age and long 
use, are well worth examination. The skeleton seems to 
hang in agony by the broken spear, which is snapped by 
Time on his knee, and the coronet is dropping from the 
brow of Death, to show that his dominion is at an end. 

Over the door leading into the cloisters, is the stately 
monument of General Wade. In the centre is a marble 
pillar, enriched with military trophies, highly finished. 
Time appears endeavouring to pull them off the pillar, but 
is defeated in his attempt by Fame, and below is a medal¬ 
lion with the general’s head upon it. 

Viscount Howe’s death is lamented by a figure, intended 
for the Genius of the province of Massachuset’s Bay, in a 
mournful posture. It has been described as “ a represen¬ 
tation of melancholy intoxication but though the artist 
lias probably failed in realizing his conception, the design 
is by no means mediocre. 

The bust of Dr. Zachery Pearce is finely sculptured, 
and, as a specimen of this form of monument, will vie 
with some of those in Poet’s Corner. It is said to be an 
excellent likeness of the original. 

A short distance from the last, is one of the most singu¬ 
lar monuments in the Abbey, so far as concerns the design. 
It is in memory of Vice Admiral Tyrrell, and repre¬ 
sents the situation of a ship at the bottom of the sea, so 
that to view it properly, “ the speculator must, suppose 
himself in a diving bell.” As the admiral did not perish 
from shipwreck, this must be considered as an exhibition 
of the sculptor’s fancy, and of its merits the spectator will 
be the best judge. 

In the south-west corner is a fine statue of James 
Craggs, Secretary of State in 1718. The epitaph is by 
Pope, and it is pleasing to see the efforts of the sculptor 
and the poet exerted to preserve the memory of a man 
whose worth and talents raised him from the humble si- 




WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


79 


tuation of a shoemaker’s son, to the attainment of the 
highest honours of the state. 

The next is a monument of great size, being thirty-six 
feet high, erected to the honour of Captain James Corn¬ 
wall. At the back is a pyramid of rich Sicilian jasper, 
beautifully variegated and finely polished, with a base of 
the same. Against the pyramid is a rock of white marble, 
with plants growing in the interstices, with cannon, an¬ 
chors, and flags at the sides. In the rock are two cavi¬ 
ties, one containing a Latin epitaph, the other a view of 
the sea fight before Toulon, in which Cornwall was killed. 
In the foreground are two ships fiercely engaged, and on 
the rock two figures, intended to represent Britannia in 
the character of Minerva, and Fame. The latter is present¬ 
ing a medallion of the hero to the former, and at the same 
time exhibits it to public view. The inscription on the 
monument has much suffered from time, the marble having 
corroded. 

The visitor will now have arrived at the west end of the 
Abbey, under the two great towers. From under the doors 
at this place, the best view of the interior of the Abbey 
can be obtained. The “ long drawn aisles and fretted 
vault ” are extended before him in all their beauty and 
perfection ; and the “ solemn light’’ from the coloured 
windows give an effect to the scene that can only be ap¬ 
preciated by the spectator. The long row of columns by 
which the building is supported, terminate at the eastern 
end, and enclose the Chapel of Edward the Confessor. 
They afford a pleasing example of the grace and lightness 
of the Gothic style of architecture. The roof is very richly 
adorned with bright gilded ribs and key stones, all varied 
in complicated scrolls. It will be perceived, that notwith¬ 
standing the strong bars of iron which cross the interco- 
lumniations near the great pillars of the tower, must greatly 
contribute to their support, yet they are not sufficient to 
prevent those vast clusters from each tending to a point in 
the centre of the space under it. Perhaps they have thus 
bent by some unknown cause many years past. No dan¬ 
ger may be apprehended for centuries ; but Mr. Malcolm, 







80 


COMPANION TO 


whose attention was for a long time so entirely devoted to 
this building that his opinion is deserving of attention, 
says, “ If I dare prophecy, this will be the spot where this 
venerable pile will rend asunder, and the adjoining parts 
accumulate in one dreadful ruin on that centre.” 

Above the west door is the great window, containing 
effigies in stained glass of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; 
Moses and Aaron, and the twelve patriarchs ; the arms of 
the founder of the Abbey, King Sebert, Edward the Con¬ 
fessor, Elizabeth, George II., and the Bishop of Rochester. 
On either side are lancet-shaped windows ; the lower part 
of the one on the right hand is filled by the figure of an 
old man in a crimson vest and blue and yellow mantle. The 
colours, both of the drapery and of the canopy above, are 
wonderfully clear and brilliant. The figure is supposed to 
represent Edward the Confessor. In the window on the 
other side is a king completely armed, of the House of 
Lancaster, as appears by his emblem, the red rose. It is 
a more finished performance than the other window, and 
does not appear to have been executed by the same artist, 
the colours being far superior. 

Over this door is likewise the monument erected at the 
national expense to William Pitt. He is represented in 
his usual costume as Chancellor of the Exchequer, and to 
the right of the base of the statue, History, in a reclining 
attitude, is recording the chief acts of his administration; 
and Anarchy, on the left, lies subdued and chained at his 
feet. 

Between the pillars on the south side of the nave, stands 
the monument of Captain Montague *, it was one of the 
first executed by Flaxman, who introduced detached mo¬ 
numents into the Abbey. In front of the pedestal is a re¬ 
presentation of Lord Howe’s Victory, and the deceased 
having been the only Captain who fell during the engage¬ 
ment, his tomb was erected at the public cost. 

The first important object in the north-west aisle, is the 
bust of Sir Godfrey Kneller, the celebrated painter in 
the reign of Charles II., and of several of his successors. 
The epitaph was written by Pope, and contains many of 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


81 


those extravagant encomiums that were once thought es¬ 
sential in such compositions. 

Passing several monuments that present nothing parti¬ 
cular to attract attention, we come to a small tablet to the 
memory of Thomas Banks, the eminent sculptor, and 
who has furnished so many of the chaste and elegant mo¬ 
numents that adorn the Abbey. His name is only re¬ 
corded on a plain marble tablet, but his works around him, 
“ the storied urns and animated busts,” are sufficient to 
perpetuate his fame, and his own simple tomb corroborates 
the truth of Ins epitaph, that “ his character as a man re¬ 
flected honour on human nature.” 

The monument of Miss Ann Whytall is exceedingly 
beautiful, and one of the best efforts of Bacon. Two 
figures representing Innocence and Peace, with their em¬ 
blems, the dove and olive branch, are leaning lightly 
against a pedestal, on which is placed an urn. Without 
any of the “ tonsil appurtenances ” that are so lavishly 
spread over many of the tombs around, this one is more 
full of the poetry of sculpture, and will probably engage a 
much larger share of attention. 

The Right Honourable Spencer Percival, who was 
murdered by Bellingham in the lobby of the House of 
Commons, has a monument placed high up in a window. 
He is falling into the arms of the officers of the House, 
and the members are seen running out to witness the 
catastrophe. A figure of the assassin is placed on the left; 
and there are two figures, Truth and Temperance, with 
their emblems, a mirror, and a bridle, placed at the feet of 
another statue of Percival, who is lying on a couch. West- 
macott was the sculptor. 







82 


COMPANION TO 


CHAPTER XII. 

The Choir—Description of the Screen—The Curious Mosaic 
Pavement—The Stalls, Altar, and Pulpit—Monuments on the 
Screen, and in the North Aisle. 

✓ 

The Screen, divides the Choir from the Nave, and is 
a fine illustration of the excellency of modern sculp¬ 
ture, though the style is Gothic. The screen that preceded 
the one now erected, although not old, was much decayed, 
and in style quite out of keeping with the other parts of 
the building. The screen in St. Edward’s Chapel has been 
already noticed, and this one nearly, if not quite, equals 
the appearance it must have presented for excellency of 
design and workmanship when it was in a perfect state. 
The Choir Screen has been recently erected under the di¬ 
rection of Mr. Blore, and at the expense of the Dean and 
Chapter of the Abbey. It consists, as the original 
formerly did, of three ornamental arches; the centre is 
the entrance into the choir ; that on the left-hand side con¬ 
tains the monument of Sir Isaac Newton, and that on the 
right the Earl of Stanhope. These occupied their present 
situations before the New Screen was erected, and the 
architect was therefore compelled to form his plan of it, so 
that they should be included ; and the manner in which he 
has done this, proves him to be a man of taste and genius. 
The workmanship of every part is exceedingly delicate and 
beautiful, and that over the entrance is particularly so. 
On each side of the door, and at the angles of the Screen, 
are turrets elaborately worked. On the front and sides 
are niches containing Edward the Confessor and his queen; 
Edward the First and Queen Eleanor, and also Henry the 
Third and his Queen, all of whom had been benefactors of 
the Abbey. The sculpture of these, and of the -whole 
Screen, will amply repay a little time and attention be¬ 
stowed on it. Above is the organ which has been recently 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


83 


decorated, but although much praised, yet certainly the di¬ 
versity of colours employed are more becoming the coat of a 
harlequin, than the case of this fine instrument: it does 
not appear in keeping -frith the objects around. 

The pavement of the Choir is perhaps one of the finest 
pieces of Mosaic work existing. Malcolm says, after de¬ 
scending two steps of white marble, which cover part of 
the grand Mosaic platform, we tread on the wreck of the 
most glorious work in England, venerable through age, 
costly in its materials, and invaluable for its workmanship. 
What must have been the beauties of this holy place soon 
after the completion of the church! The altar-piece, re¬ 
sembling in workmanship its transcendant back in Edward 
the Confessor’s Chapel; the shrine of that saint beaming 
with rich jewels, gold and silver statues, and other offer¬ 
ings ; the side of the choir showing glances of the numer¬ 
ous altars in the chapels, with the rich tombs on the right 
and left; and the pavement sparkling from reflecting the 
bright rays of vast tapers and ever-burning lamps! This 
pavement is separated from the modern one by a screen of 
iron rails. The materials of which the pavement is com¬ 
posed, are lapis lazuli, jasper, porphyry, alabaster, lydian, 
and serpentine marbles, and touchstone. It was made at 
the charge of Abbot Ware; the stones are said to have 
been purchased in Rome, and the workmen were brought 
from abroad. It was laid in the year 1272, so that it is 
566 years old, yet, where it has not been injured by the 
changes which were made in erecting the altar that has 
since been removed, it is very perfect, and displays ex¬ 
ceedingly minute workmanship ; several of the pieces of 
marble are not more than one-fourth of an inch in length, 
and the largest not more than four inches, excepting a 
few, around which the others are placed. The centre of 
the design is a large circle, whose centre is a circular 
plane of porphyry, three spans and a quarter in diameter; 
round it are stars of green, red, and white, inclosed by a 
band of alabaster, and without a border of lozenges, red 
and green : the half lozenges contain triangles of the same 
colour. A dark line once held brass letters, but they are 


84 


COMPANION TO 


destroyed. The extensive lines of this great circle run 
into four smaller circles, facing the cardinal points ; that 
to the Earl had a centre of orange and green variegated, 
round it a circle of red and green wedges ; on the outside 
of that, lozenges of the same colours, and completed by a 
dark border. To the north, the centre has a sexagon cen¬ 
tre of variegated green and yellow, round it a band of 
porphyry, and a dark border. The west circle is nearly 
similar. The south has a black centre within a variegated 
octagon. A large lozenge enclosed all these circles, and is 
formed by a double border of olive colour, within which, 
on one corner only, are one hundred and thirty-eight circles 
intersecting each other, and made by four oval pieces in¬ 
closing a lozenge. The other parts vary in figure, but are 
equally rich in ornament and device. The above lozenge 
has a circle on each of its sides to the north-east and south¬ 
east, containing lozenges of green, red stars, triangles, 
sexagons, and yellow stars. The whole of the great 
lozenge is enclosed by a square, the sides to the cardinal 
points. 

The design of the figures on this pavement was to repre¬ 
sent the time the world would last, and some verses were 
formerly to be deciphered containing an account of the 
manner in which the calculation could be made : the age 
to be attained by the world according to this dictum was 
19,683 years ! 

The sides of the choir are of wood and divided by slen¬ 
der columns, with tasteful capitals, into arches, adorned with 
foliage and pinnacles. The transcepts are entered by a 
door on each side. The enriched canopies of the stalls 
under them are exceedingly beautiful. They are thirty- 
two in number, beside those of the dean and the subdean, at 
the west-end higher than the rest; lower than these are the 
seats of the Westminster scholars, who attend during Di¬ 
vine service in their surplaces, and chant the responses. 

The altar table is of oak, perhaps nearly as old as the 
Reformation; and the altar was created under the direc¬ 
tion of Benjamin Wyatt, the architect. It represents as 
nearly as possible the Gothic original, which was removed 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


85 


when the late altar was erected, by the desire of Queen 
Anne, who presented it to the Abbey ; it formerly stood in 
Whitehall Chapel, but being in the Grecian style of architec¬ 
ture, did not harmonize with the other portions of the Ab¬ 
bey. And good taste has been shown in having it removed, 
and the present erected in its place. 

The pulpit stands opposite the north-west pillar of the 
tower, and is supported by a clustered column, spreading 
into a sexagon. On each corner is a small pillar, termi¬ 
nating in a cherub. Within the pannels is a flower of 
twelve leaves. A palm tree of exquisite workmanship 
supports the sounding board, the top and sides of which are 
pinnacled. The lower part is richly inlaid with dark wood. 

Proceeding from the choir, through the screen entrance, 
the monument of Sir Isaac Newton claims attention. 
As before stated, it forms a portion of the screen, and repre¬ 
sents the philosopher in a recumbent position leaning on 
his right arm, which is supported by four folio volumes, on 
the backs of which are inscribed the titles of the subjects 
on which his knowledge was most profound. Over him is 
a figure of Astronomy, not well executed, sitting on a globe, 
on which is traced the path of the comet of 1680. Under¬ 
neath the figure of Newton is a tablet, on which several 
figures are cut in has relief, representing the sciences that 
chiefly engaged his attention. The sun is being weighed 
by a steelyard, emblematical of his discovery of the prin¬ 
ciple of gravity ; but the devcie is too extravagant to be 
viewed with satisfaction, although from some critics it has 
received unqualified praise. 

On the other side, in the recess, is a monument to the 
memory of the Earl of Stanhope. The honour of being 
placed side by side with Newton, might have been reserved 
for one more celebrated among the world’s benefactors, but 
the private virtues of the Earl, and his exertions while 
Minister of this country, to promote its happiness and pros¬ 
perity, sufficiently qualified him to have his monument 
placed so near to that of our great Philosopher. 

The next monument of importance is that of Thomas 
Tiiynne, Esq., who was murdered in Pall Mall, on the 12th 

F 


86 


COMPANION TO 


Feb. 1682, by three ruffians, who shot at him as he was 
passing in his coach. Upon the pedestal, in has relief, the 
story of the murder is depicted. The deceased was betro¬ 
thed to a rich heiress, whom the Count Coningsmarck was 
desirous of marrying, and finding there was no way of ac¬ 
complishing this while Mr. Thynne was alive, it is believed 
he hired the ruffians to perpetrate the murder. The lady, 
however, suspecting that he had been concerned in the 
crime, declined his offers. The principal figure on the monu¬ 
ment represents Mr. Thynne in a dying posture ; the 
figures in relievo are shamefully mutilated. 

The figure of Dr. Richard Busby will probably be re¬ 
garded with a more than ordinary degree of reverence by the 
youthful visitor, who has heard of the rigid discipline he 
maintained while master of Westminster school. If re¬ 
port speaks true, the birch and ferrule were exercised 
with greater severity during his scholastic reign, than at any 
period before or since. 

Proceeding again into the north aisle, the first important 
monument is by Bacon, Junr., sacred to the memory of 
Charles Agar, Earl of Normanton and Archbishop of 
Dublin; and the manner in which it has been sculptured, ren¬ 
ders it deserving an attentive notice. He is seen at full 
length, and on his left are three attendant clergymen, on the 
right are a poor woman and two children, and a little lower 
is a poor man leaning on a crutch, all of whom the Arch¬ 
bishop is relieving. Both the design and execution of the 
figures are exceedingly good. 

A little further on is a small tablet to the memory of 
Dr. Burney, “ the unrivalled chief and scientific histo¬ 
rian of the tuneful art.”—And at a short distance an 
equally unostentatious slab of marble shows that the com¬ 
poser of so many of our sweetest melodies, Henry Pur¬ 
cell, has a place amongst the illustrious dead. 


|«/WI 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


87 


CHAPTER XIII. 


Monuments in the North Transcept,—with remarks one the gene¬ 
ral character of these erected in the Abbey. 

In this transcept the first that deserves particular notice 
is the Bishop of Bangor’s. It is generally admired for 
the beautiful figure of Religion represented in a mournful 
attitude, leaning on a rock, and bearing in her hand the 
sign of Christianity—a cross. On the other side, an angel 
is pointing to it as an emblem of hope and consolation. 
Both the figures are exceedingly well designed and sculp¬ 
tured. 

The figure adjoining, which has been erected to the 
memory of Elizabeth Warren, and is known to the vi¬ 
sitors of the Abbey as the Soldier’s Widow, is the master¬ 
piece of its sculptor, Westmacott, and is more touchingly 
affecting, from its simplicity, and the association that con¬ 
nect themselves with it, than any other in the Abbey. It 
represents the widow of a soldier, wayworn and disconso¬ 
late, with an infant at her breast, and her little bundle at 
her side, sitting upon a stone, exhausted by fatigue. Her 
hair is disordered, and her face presents an expression of 
dispondency that must find its way to every feeling heart. 
The drapery of the figure has had much attention paid to 
it, and the coarse stuff of the outer garment is finely im¬ 
itative. This figure is one of the most beautiful examples 
of modern sculpture, and finely contrasts, as a monument, 
with the unmeaning allegories and superfluous decorations 
of the tombs of former ages. Nothing can be in better taste 
than this simple figure as a memorial of the amiable lady 
whose benevolence it illustrates, and whose memory it 
will perpetuate. 

Genl. Guest has a tomb adjoining on which is a bust 
finely executed, and the Military trophies around are well 
arranged. 


88 


COMPANION TO 


The monument of Admiral Watson is one that reflects 
honour on the East India Company, at whose expense it was 
erected. The Admiral is represented holding a palm 
branch in his right hand, with his left extended. On one 
side is the female figure of an Asiatic, of great beauty and 
elegance of drapery. On the right, chained to the foot of 
a tree, an East Indian is seen, whose countenance expresses 
the grief and pain, not unmixed with resentment, that might 
naturally be expected from a man in such a situation. 
His hands are behind him, and his legs are crossed. It is 
a very fine figure. It was Admiral Watson who retook 
Calcutta in 1757, and relieved the unfortunate beings who 
had been confined in the black hole there.—One of Ba¬ 
con's best efforts is the memorial of the Earl of Halifax. 
His bust is good, and a silk-tasselled bag on the pedestal 
very natural in appearance. The work throughout is re¬ 
markable for the delicacy that distinguished this artist’s 
productions. 

Sir Thomas Wintingham, Bart., M. D., is seen, on a bas 
relief on his tomb, visiting a poor family and relieving the 
children, and an old man on a bed of straw. The figure 
of his lady weeping at the foot of a sarcophagus is but 
poorly executed. 

The memory of the amiable philanthropist, Jonas 
IIanway, did not require the bust that is here placed to pre¬ 
serve his memory from oblivion; but it is a pleasing tes¬ 
timony of his virtues. The face has a most benevolent 
expression, and the figures around are well suited to the 
subject. A boy almost naked is receiving clothing, for 
which also a second is supplicating. A third, who appears 
fitted out and trained for the sea, supports a ship, the rud¬ 
der in one hand, and with the other pointing to his bene¬ 
factor. 

The full-length statue of Francis Horner, is a pleasing 
departure from the usual form of monuments. The figure 
is commanding, and the face expressive of the character of 
the original. It is the work of Chantry. 

General Hope has a beautiful female figure bending 
Dver his coffin-shaped sarcophagus, which ought not to be 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


89 


passed by unnoticed. The design is simple, and for that 
reason far more effective than many of the elaborate works 
around. The female is intended for an Indian, lamenting 
the loss of her benefactor and protector. 

The monument of Warren Hastings, the Governor 
General of India, and celebrated for his impeachment by 
Sheridan, Burke, and other eloquent members of the House 
of Commons, has a well-sculptured bust of the deceased 
upon'it, by Bacon. For this and the epitaph, it is alone re¬ 
markable. 

Sir Eyre Coote’s monument, adjoining, is more ele¬ 
gant, and will command a greater share of attention. 
There are two prominent figures upon it; the one an Asiatic 
captive, who is weeping by the side of a trophy of Indian 
armour, indicating the subjection of that empire ; and the 
other is a figure of Fame, who is placing a medallion of the 
deceased upon a trophy. The figure of the captive is finely 
sculptured ; his. position ; the contour of his limbs—large 
and well developed—and the strong expression of his face, 
altogether, show the care that must have been bestowed 
upon it by the sculptor, Banks. 

Amongst the modern works of art within the Abbey, 
that can vie with many of the finest productions of anti¬ 
quity, is the statue of John Kemble, the tragedian, who is 
represented on a pedestal in the character of Cato. It is 
the work of Flaxman, and requires no praise to recommend 
it to notice. The simple majesty of form, and the dignified 
expression of the countenance, mark it as one of the best 
productions of its sculptor, and render it a fitting monu¬ 
ment for the eminent man whose memory it preserves. 

A collection of emblematical figures and devices form a 
monument, erected at the expense of the nation, to the 
memories of Captains Bayne, Blair, and Manners, who 
were killed in battle under Admiral Rodney. One or two 
of the figures are well designed, particularly that of Fame. 
The statue of Britannia is also well proportioned, but the 
accumulation of military trophies does not add much to the 
general effect, and strongly contrasts with the simplicity of 
the monument just described. 


COMPANION TO 


DO 


The one in memory of the Earl of Mansfield is the 
best work of Flaxman’s in the Abbey. It was erected by 
a private gentleman, some years after the Earl’s death, out 
of respect to his memory, although, shortly previous to his 
decease, he had requested that no memorial of this kind 
should be erected. The opinion expressed by an eminent 
critic on another monument in the Abbey, described here¬ 
after, may with strict justice be applied to this,—“ England 
does not contain a finer specimen of sepulchral remem¬ 
brance.” The Earl is represented sitting in his robes, as 
Lord Chief Justice, on the judgment seat, which is placed 
on a circular elevation of peculiar elegance. In his left 
hand he holds a scroll of parchment; his right hand rests on 
his knees, and his left foot is a little advanced. This atti¬ 
tude is taken from the celebrated painting by Sir Joshua 
Reynolds, and is executed with so much spirit and judg¬ 
ment by the sculptor, that it has the appearance of being 
done from the life. On his right hand is a figure of Justice, 
holding a balance equally poised ; and on his left hand 
Wisdom is seen reading in the book of laws. Between the 
statues of Wisdom and Justice is a trophy, composed of the 
Earl’s family arms, surmounted by the coronet, the mantle 
of honour, the fasces, or rods of justice, and the curtana, or 
sword of mercy. On the back of the chair is the Earl’s 
motto, “Uni Aquus Virtuti” (Equal to virtue only) in¬ 
closed in a wreath of laurel; under it is a figure of death, as 
represented by the ancients—a beautiful youth, leaning on 
an extinguished torch; and on each side is a funeral altar. 
The figure of the youth is a fine study for the artist; every 
limb is well proportioned, and it adds very much to the 
completeness of the monument. The sculptor has shown 
exceeding good taste in placing it behind the chair, not 
only on account of its being the more appropriate situation 
for it, but because it prevents the appearance of nakedness 
that would otherwise be seen. This monument is the first 
that was placed between the pillars of the Abbey, without 
a wall to block up the arch and destroy the beauty of the 
building. In opposing general custom, and acting on his 
own opinion in this respect, Flaxman exhibited his usual 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


91 


judgment; and his example will do much towards giving 
monumental sculpture a much higher character as a branch 
of the fine arts than it has hitherto enjoyed. 

The next is a monument of great magnificence, erected 
at the expense of the country, to the memory of William 
Pitt, Earl of Chatham. It has been called “not only a 
national tribute to superior excellence, but a national me¬ 
mento to what a height her sons have carried the noble art 
of Sculpture.” The principal figure is that of the Earl, 
who is represented in his robes in the act of addressing the 
House of Lords. The attitude is graceful and natural, and 
the countenance expressive. Underneath are Prudence and 
Fortitude, with their appropriate symbols ; the first with a 
serpent twisted round a mirror, the second clothed in a 
lion’s skin. The action of the latter figure contrasts well 
with the quiet and contemplative position of Prudence. 
Britannia and Neptune are well sculptured ; Britannia holds 
in her hand the emblem of the sovereignty of the sea, the 
trident of Neptune ; and he is leaning on a dolphin, with 
a severe countenance and agitated action, which is opposed 
by the great ease in the figure of the Earth, who reclines on 
a terrestrial globe, with her head crowned with fruit, which 
also lies in profusion at the foot of the pyramid. The 
whole is highly creditable to the taste and genius of Bacon. 

The sculptor has exerted the utmost of his abilities in 
the memorial to the Duke of Newcastle ; but although 
it occupies a considerable space, and the expense of erecting 
it must have been very great, it is not calculated to attract 
much attention. The figures on it are not badly sculp¬ 
tured, but the want of that simplicity which is to be found 
in the works of modern artists, is sadly deficient. 

A striking contrast to the last is the statue of George 
Canning, representing him addressing the House of Com¬ 
mons. It is full of dignity and grace, and the attitude is 
noble and commanding. Chantry, in this statue, and the 
one to the memory of Watt, has shown the superiority of 
the modern school of monumental sculpture. Without any 
extraneous decorations, or unmeaning and foolish allego¬ 
ries, he presents to us a form, which, without even the ad- 


92 


COMPANION TO 


vantage of Roman costume, at once attracts and fixes atten¬ 
tion, by its truth to nature. The figure of Canning will 
long remain a memorial of the statesman’s worth and the 
sculptor’s genius. 

Sir Peter Warren’s memory is preserved by the spe¬ 
cimen of the skill of Roubiliac, which is placed close ad¬ 
joining the last figure. It is of white marble, and repre¬ 
sents Hercules placing a bust of the Knight, who was a 
Vice Admiral in our navy, upon a pedestal. Britannia, 
with a wreath of withered laurel in her hand, inclines towards 
it, and around are various emblematical devices. 

The monument of Charles James Fox represents him 
falling into the arms of Liberty, while an African, of great 
proportions, is in a respectful attitude, thanking him for 
his exertions to procure the liberty of the slave. The 
figures are well sculptured, but on the whole, this memo¬ 
rial is not very pleasing, and does not create any particular 
impression. 

At a short distance from the last is a monument to the 
memory of Sir Stamford Raffles, who is represented 
seated on a handsomely-moulded pedestal. The figure is 
well proportioned, and has a serious, contemplative ap¬ 
pearance. The lover of science and the friend of humanity 
will not pass this record of a truly good man, without re¬ 
calling to recollection his indefatigable industry, by which 
the cause of science has been accelerated; and his no less 
indefatigable perseverance to obtain the rights of men for 
those who had been deprived of them by the caprice of 
tyranny. 

The principal monuments in the Abbey have now been 
described, and although many of little or no importance 
have been passed by without remark, yet all that are really 
curious, either for their antiquity or as works of art, have 
received a proper share of attention. In concluding the 
accounVwe may add, that to contrast the skill of the artists 
at different periods, the monuments in the chapel of Ed¬ 
ward the Confessor should be compared with those in the 
northern transcept, on which spot are erected some of the 



WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


93 


finest pieces of sculpture of our age. In the aisles of Henry 
the Seventh’s Chapel, and the chapels adjoining, every 
variety of monument may be observed ; and the visitor will 
not fail to notice, that while the members of the naval and 
military professions have their memorials scattered pro¬ 
fusely around, the man of science, the artist, and the lover 
of literature, appear entirely neglected, if we except indeed 
the monuments in Poet’s Corner. And these were erected 
under very different circumstances to the majority of the 
others. For the honour of the former, the nation was 
called upon, “ by authority of Parliament,’’ to contribute 
the sum necessary for the erection of the memorial, but 
there is no tomb erected under similar circumstances to a 
philosopher or a poet. This fact is not pleasing when we 
see so many to the memory of men who otherwise would 
have been long since forgotten ; it is satisfactory, however, 
to observe, that many of the brightest ornaments of this 
country, in literature and science, have been honoured with 
a memorial in this place, the expense of which has been 
met by public subscription. A plain tablet erected under 
such circumstances, speaks more eloquently of the merits 
of the man so honoured, than the most lauditory epitaph. 
With regard to the epitaphs generally, little notice has 
been taken of them in the preceding pages, but an exami¬ 
nation of them alone will amply repay a visit to the Abbey. 
The strangest conceits, and the most fulsome flattery, to 
“ soothe the dull cold ear of Death,’’ will be found in pro¬ 
fusion, but so will likewise some of the finest specimens of 
epitaphs ever written. To view the whole Abbey with 
attention, requires more than a single visit; but even on a 
cursory examination enough may be found to afford the 
contemplative mind ample satisfaction. 


94 


COMPANION TO 


CHAPTER XIV. 

CORONATION CEREMONIES. 

Earliest record of the Ceremony—Introductions of Forms—The 
Anointing—The Ampulla—Description of the Regalia—The 
Imperial Crown and Crown of State—The Ring—The Queen’s 
Ring—The Orb—The Sceptre. 

As the Coronations of the various Sovereigns who have 
reigned in this country since the conquest have all been 
celebrated within the walls of Westminster Abbey, it is 
thought that a short historical account of the ceremony, 
and a description of the manner in which it is to be per¬ 
formed at the ensuing Coronation of Her Majesty, Victoria, 
will probably be acceptable to the reader. The subject 
would have been noticed in the earlier chapters of the 
work, when giving the history of the Abbey, but from the 
importance of the ceremony, and the interest attaching to 
it at the present time, it was considered advisable to devote 
a separate portion of the book to an account of it alone. 
In order to render this as interesting as possible, many cu¬ 
rious facts relating both to the antiquity of the ceremony, 
and to its celebration at different periods in this country, 
have been collected; and these, it is hoped, will give the 
reader an insight into the manners of the people at the pe¬ 
riods described; and, at the same time, prevent the sub¬ 
ject having that antiquarian dryness that is sometimes found 
in such descriptions. 

Before proceeding to state the manner in which the cere¬ 
mony is performed in the present day, it will be interesting 
to trace the origin of many of the forms, and see how gra¬ 
dually the ceremonial has lost its original simplicity, and 
accumulated symbols, oaths, and solemn declarations, that 
were formerly quite unknown ; and which, whether they 
add to the general effect, or detract from it, might, cer¬ 
tainly, in many instances, be discontinued. 

The first Coronation of which we have any record, is 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


95 


that of Saul; but the fact that the Israelites expressed 
their wishes to Samuel by saying, “ Now make us a king 
to judge us like all the nations ,” proves that the custom 
must have existed a long time previously. It is indeed 
only natural to suppose, that a tribe of half-civilized men 
would choose one who was celebrated for his prowess as a 
warrior, or his skill as a hunter, to be their chief to lead 
them out to war, and decide any disputes that might arise 
amongst them. Some such circumstances as these evi¬ 
dently determined the election of a chief or king, since he 
was always chosen from amongst his people. Samuel said 
to the Israelites, “ See ye whom the Lord hath chosen, 
that there is none like him among all the people. And 
the people shouted, and said, God save the King.” The 
acceptance of a Sovereign by the subjects over whom he 
is to reign, has always been considered so important, that 
even where the crown is hereditary, as in our own country, 
“ the recognition ” is still preserved, and forms one of the 
most impressive portions of the Coronation Ceremony. 
The form was originally exceedingly simple ; but as a so¬ 
lemn contract between a king and his people, must always 
have been impressive. From the very earliest periods it 
has been a religious ceremony ; the king binding himself 
by the most sacred obligations, to rule according to the 
laws, and for the benefit of all his subjects. 

It may easily be imagined, that in order to increase the 
grandeur of so important a ceremonial, many forms not ac¬ 
tually essential would soon be introduced. Of these the 
crowning and anointing appear to be the most ancient, as 
they are at the present time the most important. The 
earlier kings of Israel were anointed and crowned. The 
former ceremony was used when David was appointed 
king ; but there is no mention of a crown till Jehoash’s 
coronation. “ Jehoiada brought forth the king’s son, and 
put the crown upon his head, and gave him the testimony, 
and they made him king, and anointed him ; and they 
clapped their hands and said, ‘ God save the King.’” 

Next to the election, or “ recognition” of a king, the 
ceremony of anointing appears to be the most ancient. It 


96 


COMPANION TO 


is a religious ceremony frequently mentioned in Scripture, 
and has always been preserved at the coronation of Chris¬ 
tian sovereigns. It was introduced into the form of electing 
the Emperors of the Eastern or Brazantine Empire in the 
thirteenth century, in order to deprive the soldiers of their 
right of bestowing the crown. As the anointing with holy 
oil could only he performed by the Pope or an Ecclesiastic, 
the Pope thus obtained all the power that had formerly 
belonged to the soldiers and people. To add an additional 
sanctity to the ceremony, the oil was consecrated ; and 
even in some cases, was asserted to possess a superior de¬ 
gree of sanctity. The holy oil used in anointing the 
French kings, is reported to be that w r hich was brought 
from heaven by a dove at the coronation of King Clovis, 
about the end of the fifth century. And it is said, that 
although it has always been used at the inauguration of the 
French sovereigns, that it remains undiminished ! At the 
coronation of Charles X., the priests reported that they had 
obtained a little of it, which had been saved during the first 
revolution. A legend of similar impudence was invented re¬ 
specting the holy oil with which the usurper Henry IV. was 
anointed. It was said that while Thomas a Becket, the 
imperious and insolent Archbishop of Canterbury, in the 
reign of Henry II., was in exile abroad, the blessed Virgin 
presented him with a small quantity of sacred oil, and at 
the same time assured him that whoever was anointed with 
it, would become great kings and holy patrons of the 
church. Notwithstanding the sanctity of this oil, it appears 
that Thomas a Becket took so little care of it that it was 
lost. At last, however, the place where it was to be found 
was revealed in a miraculous manner to a pilgrim ; who 
having obtained it, presented it to the Duke of Lancaster, 
then on the Continent engaged in the wars. He gave it 
to Edward the Black Prince, who ordered it to be safely 
deposited as a relic of peculiar sanctity in the Tower of 
London. At the coronation of Richard II., however, it 
could not be found, and it is said, many persons believed 
that it was the decree of Providence that it should not be 
used for his coronation, in order to prevent him becoming 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


97 


the exalted character that was promised to whoever should 
be anointed with it. At a subsequent period the oil was 
again found, and Richard wished to be crowned a second 
time, in order to have the benefit of the anointing. This, 
however, the pope would not permit, so the poor king was 
obliged to remain satisfied with the belief, that some more 
fortunate monarch was to reap the advantages he was de¬ 
nied. Shortly afterwards Richard was deposed, and Henry 
IV., who succeeded him, had the oil used at his coronation. 
It is exceedingly probable, that the lie just described was 
invented in order to impress the people with the belief, 
that the usurper was chosen by Heaven to reign over this 
nation ; a task of no great difficulty considering the state 
of the public mind, and the idolatrous reverence paid to 
any relics the clergy chose to call sacred. 

The Ampulla, or Golden Eagle, in which the oil is con- 
tainted at coronations in the present day, is said to be the 
vessel that contained the relic above described. It is of 
pure gold, nearly seven inches in height, and weighs about 
ten ounces. It escaped the fate of the other portions of 
the regalia in the time of the Commonwealth, when they 
were all sold and destroyed. 

The sanctity supposed to be bestowed on a king by the 
ceremony of anointing, has been regarded with the greatest 
veneration from the time of Saul to a comparatively modern 
period. David is represented as sparing Saul on more 
than one occasion, because he was an anointed king. 
“ Who can stretch forth his hand against Jehovah’s anointed 
and be guiltless ? ” is the expression he uses when declin¬ 
ing to avail himself of the opportunity of killing his enemy. 
And in our country an anointed king has been permitted 
to perpetrate outrages that would not have been tolerated 
in one who had not undergone the ceremony. Shakspeare 
says, 

u Not all the water in the rude rough sea, 

Can wash the balm from au anointed king.” 

The parts anointed at the last coronation were the hands, 
breast, and head : at the ceremony about to take place, the 

F 


98 


COMPANION TO 


form of the cross will be made by the Archbishop with the 
holy oil on the hands and head only of Her Majesty. 
Anointing on the head appears to have been the earliest 
practice; but formerly the shoulders and bowings of both 
arms were touched with the oil; and as this has been dis¬ 
continued, a president is afforded for any further alteration. 

The Crown first used appears to have been simply a 
circlet of leaves or metal. A circle or ring has always 
been regarded as a solemn token : it is emblematical of the 
completeness or perfection of a solemn right; and well 
adapted, therefore, both for coronation purposes, in which 
the sovereign is supposed to wed himself to the nation, as 
also for the marriage ceremony of which it forms so impor¬ 
tant a part. In the Roman and Grecian games, the victor 
was decorated with a laurel wreath as an honourable mark 
of his skill and prowess ; and in appointing governors of 
provinces, and vassal princes, a similar mark of distinction 
was conferred. The kings of the Saxon race in England 
had a crown like that of other nations, which at that time 
was only a plain fillet. King Egbert first adopted the 
circle or fillet with points, ornaments which had long pre¬ 
viously decorated the crowns of the Eastern monarchs. 
Edmund Ironside increased the decorations by adding 
pearls to the tips of the points. William the Conqueror 
had the circle adorned with flowerets and leaves, and was 
the first sovereign who introduced the cross into any por¬ 
tion of the regalia. The crown of William Rufus resem¬ 
bled, as nearly as possible, that of Edmund Ironside. At 
a subsequent period, when the kings of this country began 
to lay claim to the throne of France, and to assert their 
right by frequent invasions of that country, the fiuer-de-lis 
was introduced as an ornament to the English crown, 
where it has remained even to the present day ; what was 
formerly emblematical, having, by lapse of time, become 
simply ornamental. From the time of Henry I. to Ed¬ 
ward III., the decorations of the crown underwent but 
little alteration : the latter monarch enriched his crown 
with fluer-de-lis and crosses patt^e, and arched with four 
bars. Thus it remained till the reign of Henry VII., when 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


99 


two arches adorned with pearls were first added, and this 
form has been continued to the present time. During the 
Commonwealth, the crown called “ St. Edward’s,” said to 
have been worn by that monarch, and which was formerly 
kept in the Abbey, was sold with the other portions of the 
regalia by order of Parliament. 

For the coronation of Charles II., a new crown was 
made as near like St. Edward’s as possible : this is now the 
Imperial Crown, and is that with which the sovereigns of this 
country are crowned. It is adorned with a great number 
of diamonds and other precious stones ; and formerly when 
a coronation took place, it was further enriched by the gems 
which usually ornament the Crown of State, or that worn 
by the sovereign at the Coronation banquet in Westminster 
Hall, or when he went in state to open or dissolve Parlia¬ 
ment. At the time of the coronation, the jewels were taken 
from the latter Crown, and being fixed in collets, were in¬ 
serted in the Imperial Crown. On the accession of a new 
sovereign, the Crown of State is re-decorated and altered. 
George IV. had the regalia altered and beautified so con¬ 
siderably, that the expense amounted to nearly sixty thou¬ 
sand pounds. The jewels are now permanently fixed in it. 

The Imperial Crown is described as being rather more 
than a foot in height. Round the bottom part is a circle 
of ermine, which is surmounted by a band of pure gold, 
in which are set a gorgeous number of diamonds, rubies, 
sapphires, and emeralds, encircled below by a fillet of beau¬ 
tiful pearls. The arches, or circular bars, which meet at 
the top in the form of a cross, are likewise of the finest 
gold. On the edges are sparkling rows of diamonds, and 
in the centre of the bars there are a number of other pre¬ 
cious stones of immense value. At the points where the 
bars are fastened to the circle of gold, four Maltese crosses 
formed of brilliants are fixed; and in the spaces between 
them there are four fleur-de-lis, composed of gold and dia¬ 
monds. On the top is placed an orb of gold and precious 
stones, from which arises a cross of the same material, gar¬ 
nished with superb brilliants. Three pearls of great size 
hang pendant from its extremities, and by their contrast 


98 


COMPANION TO 


form of the cross will be made by the Archbishop with the 
holy oil on the hands and head only of Her Majesty. 
Anointing on the head appears to have been the earliest 
practice; but formerly the shoulders and bowings of both 
arms were touched with the oil; and as this has been dis¬ 
continued, a president is afforded for any further alteration. 

The Crown first used appears to have been simply a 
circlet of leaves or metal. A circle or ring has always 
been regarded as a solemn token : it is emblematical of the 
completeness or perfection of a solemn right; and well 
adapted, therefore, both for coronation purposes, in which 
the sovereign is supposed to wed himself to the nation, as 
also for the marriage ceremony of which it forms so impor¬ 
tant a part. In the Roman and Grecian games, the victor 
was decorated with a laurel wreath as an honourable mark 
of his skill and prowess ; and in appointing governors of 
provinces, and vassal princes, a similar mark of distinction 
was conferred. The kings of the Saxon race in England 
had a crown like that of other nations, which at that time 
was only a plain fillet. King Egbert first adopted the 
circle or fillet with points, ornaments which had long pre¬ 
viously decorated the crowns of the Eastern monarchs. 
Edmund Ironside increased the decorations by adding 
pearls to the tips of the points. William the Conqueror 
had the circle adorned with flowerets and leaves, and was 
the first sovereign who introduced the cross into any por¬ 
tion of the regalia. The crown of William Rufus resem¬ 
bled, as nearly as possible, that of Edmund Ironside. At 
a subsequent period, when the kings of this country began 
to lay claim to the throne of France, and to assert their 
right by frequent invasions of that country, the j Huer-de-lis 
was introduced as an ornament to the English crown, 
where it has remained even to the present day ; what was 
formerly emblematical, having, by lapse of time, become 
simply ornamental. From the time of Henry I. to Ed¬ 
ward III., the decorations of the crown underwent but 
little alteration : the latter monarch enriched his crown 
with fluer-de-lis and crosses pattee, and arched with four 
bars. Thus it remained till the reign of Henry VII., when 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


99 


two arches adorned with pearls were first added, and this 
form has been continued to the present time. During the 
Commonwealth, the crown called “ St. Edward’s,” said to 
have been worn by that monarch, and which was formerly 
kept in the Abbey, was sold with the other portions of the 
regalia by order of Parliament. 

For the coronation of Charles II., a new crown was 
made as near like St. Edward’s as possible : this is now the 
Imperial Crown, and is that with which the sovereigns of this 
country are crowned. It is adorned with a great number 
of diamonds and other precious stones ; and formerly when 
a coronation took place, it was further enriched by the gems 
which usually ornament the Crown of State, or that worn 
by the sovereign at the Coronation banquet in Westminster 
Hall, or when he went in state to open or dissolve Parlia¬ 
ment. At the time of the coronation, the jewels were taken 
from the latter Crown, and being fixed in collets, were in¬ 
serted in the Imperial Crown. On the accession of a new 
sovereign, the Crown of State is re-decorated and altered. 
George IY. had the regalia altered and beautified so con¬ 
siderably, that the expense amounted to nearly sixty thou¬ 
sand pounds. The jewels are now permanently fixed in it. 

The Imperial Crown is described as being rather more 
than a foot in height. Round the bottom part is a circle 
of ermine, which is surmounted by a band of pure gold, 
in which are set a gorgeous number of diamonds, rubies, 
sapphires, and emeralds, encircled below by a fillet of beau¬ 
tiful pearls. The arches, or circular bars, which meet at 
the top in the form of a cross, are likewise of the finest 
gold. On the edges are sparkling rows of diamonds, and 
in the centre of the bars there are a number of other pre¬ 
cious stones of immense value. At the points where the 
bars are fastened to the circle of gold, four Maltese crosses 
formed of brilliants are fixed; and in the spaces between 
them there are four fleur-de-lis , composed of gold and dia¬ 
monds. On the top is placed an orb of gold and precious 
stones, from which arises a cross of the same material, gar¬ 
nished with superb brilliants. Three pearls of great size 
hang pendant from its extremities, and by their contrast 


100 


COMPANION TO 


with the diamonds, add an additional lustre to the appear¬ 
ance of the latter. On the Maltese cross in front of the 
crown is a sapphire, of the deepest azure, more than two 
inches in length, and one in breadth; and on the cross at 
the back of the crown is the ancient ruby which was worn 
by the Black Prince at the battle of Cressy, and at Agin- 
court by Henry V. It is the finest in the world, and is 
estimated of the value of 10,000/. The cap within the 
crown is composed of the richest purple velvet, lined with 
white taffeta. 

The Crown of State is exceedingly rich in all kinds of 
precious stones. The extraordinary ruby just described is 
kept in it, except at the time of the coronation; and the 
orb from which the cross at the top arises, is remarkable 
from being one entire stone of a sea-green colour, known 
by the name of an aquamarine. The form of this Crown 
is nearly the same as the Imperial Crown, but can be al¬ 
tered at the wish of the sovereign. It is to be re-decorated 
for her present Miijesty, and will be made smaller in the 
circlet. 

The Imperial Crown is only used for the coronation of 
the kings and queens of this country. When a queen con¬ 
sort is crowned, another called “ Queen Edgitha’s Crown ” 
is used, which was originally made for the queen of Charles 
II. And in proceeding to and from the coronation, and 
on other great state occasions, the queen consort wears a 
crown of state very nearly resembling the king’s, except 
that the jewels are not so rich and numerous. The value 
of the regalia is immense ; and the expense of merely pre¬ 
paring the crown for the ceremony of the coronation, has 
often been considered too extravagant. At the time of the 
Commonwealth, the Parliament voted that the whole of 
the regalia was unnecessary, and the expense a useless and 
burdensome tax upon the nation. The whole were accord¬ 
ingly sold, and the following is preserved in the Court 
Rolls as the proceeds of the sale :—“ For King Alfred’s 
crown, of gould wire work, sett with slight stones, and two 
little bells, 79 j ounces, at SI. per ounces, 248/. 10,9. The 
Imperial Crown, of massey gould, weighing 7 pounds 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


101 


6 ounces, valued at 338/. 3.9. 4 d. Queen Edith’s crowne, 
formerly thought to be of massey gould, hut upon triall 
found to be of silver gilt, enriched with garnettes, foule 
pearle, sapphires, and some odd stones, 50£ ounces, valued 
at 16/.” The money raised by the sale of the regalia, was 
applied to national purposes by the Parliament. 

Besides the anointing and crowning, another form of 
great antiquity constitutes a part of the Coronation cere¬ 
mony, namely, the investiture by the Ring. In the Scrip¬ 
tures, as well as in the early history of all nations, we find 
that power was delegated by means of a ring, the signet on 
which was frequently the sign of authority by which the 
sovereign’s mandates were enforced. When Richard II. 
resigned the crown in favour of the Duke of Lancaster, 
afterwards Henry the Fourth, he did so by presenting him 
with his ring. The Coronation Ring, or as it has been 
called, “ the Wedding-ring of England,” is of pure gold, 
with a large violet ruby set in it, on which is the form of 
the cross. The original Coronation ring was reported to 
have been sent to Edward the Confessor by St. John the 
Evangelist. The legend states, that St. Edward, who was 
a very charitable man, meeting on one occasion a poor pil¬ 
grim, and having no money to bestow upon him, presented 
him with his ring. Subsequently two English pilgrims, 
who were travelling in Palestine, separated from their com¬ 
pany and lost their way. When they were considering 
what they had better do, “ there came to them a fayre an¬ 
cient man, with wyte hair for age. Thenne the olde man 
axed him what they were, and of what regyon, and they an¬ 
swered that they were pylgrims of England, and hadde lost 
their fellesliip and way also. Thenne this olde man com¬ 
forted them goodly, and brought them into a fair cytee; 
and whanne they had well refreshed them, and rested there 
all nyhte, on the morne, this fayre olde man went with 
them and brought them in the right waye agayne. And he 
was glad to hear them talke of the welfare and holynesse 
of their kynge Saint Edward. And when he should de¬ 
part from them, thenne he tolde them what he was, and 
sayd, ‘ I am Johan the Evangelist, and sayd ye unto Ed- 


102 


COMPANION TO 


ward your king, that I grete him well by the token that 
he gaff to me, this ryng, with his one handes.’ ” This 
story is recorded on the screen in St. Edward’s chapel, 
where the king is represented presenting the ring to the 
Evangelist in the disguise of a pilgrim. 

The present coronation ring is said to have once be¬ 
longed to the unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots, by whom 
it was presented to James I. On the execution of Charles I. 
it was preserved by a friend of the king’s, and conveyed to 
Charles II. After his death it came into the possession of 
James II., who, when he abdicated the throne, took away 
this ring with him concealed in his drawers. On attempt¬ 
ing to escape from Sheerness, he was discovered by the 
captain of the vessel he had chosen to convey him away, 
and the sailors with great rudeness searched his person. 
They did not, however, discover the ring, which he ac¬ 
cordingly took with him, and subsequently it came into 
the possession of George the Third. The Queen s ring is 
formed of gold, round which are placed a number of small- 
pointed rubies, with a large one on the top. It is of a very 
antique shape. 

In addition to the ceremonies just described, which have 
formed a part of the coronation service from the earliest 
periods, various other forms have been subsequently intro¬ 
duced, in order to add to the grandeur of the solemnity, 
and preserve the remembrance of duties to be enforced or 
performed by the sovereign. Those which relate in parti¬ 
cular to the monarch of this country will be mentioned 
when we describe the Coronation ceremony ; but some of 
the insignia employed is of a very early date, and must be 
mentioned previously. 

The Orb, or globe, has been an emblem of supreme 
power in all ages. It was used as such at the inaugura¬ 
tion of the Roman emperors. The first Christian emperor 
added a cross to it, “ which showed,” says an old author, 
“ that by faith in the cross he was emperor of the earth ; 
for the globe denotes the earth, which is of like form, and 
the cross denotes faith, because God in the flesh was 
nailed to it.” The orb at the coronation is only placed in 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


103 


the hand of the reigning monarch ; the sovereign’s consort 
is never invested with this mark of authority. When Wil¬ 
liam and Mary were crowned, as they both reigned in their 
own right, a second orb was made, which is now preserved 
along with the other regalia. The one used is a ball of 
gold, about six inches in diameter, with a band passing 
around it one way, and over half its circumference the 
other. The bands are adorned with a great number of 
diamonds and other precious stones, and on the top is 
placed an amethyst of an oval figure and very large size. 
Above this is a cross of gold, set with diamonds, in the 
centre of which, on one side, is a sapphire, and on the other 
an emerald. It is also embellished with four large pearls, 
in the angles of the cross, and three large pearls at each 
end. 

The Sceptre is a more ancient symbol of sovereignty 
than the crown in this country, and is mentioned in the 
Bible as an emblem of supreme power. Among our re¬ 
galia there are two, one having a dove, and the other a 
cross, placed on the top. The first is of gold, richly 
adorned with diamonds and other precious stones ; and 
the one with the dove is also of gold. It is curiously em¬ 
bossed, and round the handle and upper part of it are 
placed a number of very beautiful rubies, sapphires, eme¬ 
ralds, and diamonds. The globe which supports the cross 
is placed in some very beautiful worked leaves. 

The symbols and ceremonies just described all had their 
origin at very early periods, and from their antiquity and 
impressiveness, form a most interesting portion of the ce¬ 
remonial. In the English service, however, in addition to 
these, various other forms are introduced ; the sovereign is 
sworn to defend the rights and liberties of the people; and 
the most important amongst them in return, promise to 
render and enforce obedience to his commands, and to serve 
him faithfully as loyal subjects. The manner in which all 
this is performed will be described in the next chapter. 




104 


COMPANION TO 


CHAPTER XV. 

Fitting up of the Abbey for the Coronation—The Ceremony—The 
Recognition—The Oblations—The Coronation Oath — The 
Anointing—The Investing—The Crowning, and the Homage of 
the Peers. 

Sunday was the day usually chosen in former times for 
the performance of the coronation ceremony, because it 
was probably supposed to impart an additional degree of 
sanctity to the proceedings; and the place in which they 
occurred was invariably Westminster Abbey. All our 
sovereigns have been crowned there since the Conquest, 
as previously mentioned, and on such occasions the Abbey 
was fitted up with an extraordinary degree of splendour. 
The arrangements now made, however, to accommodate 
the company who are present, from duty or curiosity, can 
never have been surpassed. To afford the reader an idea 
of the splendid appearance presented by the sacred edifice 
when fitted up for the coronation, we have condensed from 
the official documents published at the time, the following 
account of the arrangements when William the Fourth and 
his consort were crowned. The same plan is adhered to as 
nearly as possible at every repetition of the ceremony. 

At the western entrance a temporary porch was erected. 
It was constructed of wood, but coloured so as to resemble 
the stone building as nearly as possible. From this door¬ 
way to the entrance of the choir, were erected galleries 
decorated with crimson cloth, of which the front parts 
were in a line with the pillars of the centre. aisle, and the 
back parts rested on the w'alls of the Abbey itself. Along 
the main building a platform was erected, upon which the 
procession was to walk; it was matted over, and covered 
in the centre with purple cloth. On each side of it were 
stationed two companies of the Grenadier Guard. 

A beautiful Gothic Screen, forming the entrance to the 
choir, and enclosing the organ and organ loft, was set 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


105 


apart for the accommodation of the hand. It was painted 
by Mr. Parris, the painter of the Colosseum, and although 
only constructed of wood, was made to imitate very close¬ 
ly the appearance of stone, harmonizing finely with the 
other portions of the building. At the entrance of the choir 
the floor was raised several steps, and the spectacle here 
presented was magnificent. All the stalls, pews, and 
reading desks were removed. Four or five rows of 
benches were erected in their stead, and were set apart for 
the reception of the Knights of the Bath, Privy Council¬ 
lors, judges, and others who took a partin the procession. 
On each side of the choir were built two rows of galleries, 
which reached to the intersection of the transcept with the 
choir. The vaultings above these galleries were also fitted 
up as places for spectators, and handsomely decorated with 
crimson cloth. At the further end of the Choir some steps 
led to the “ theatre,” or raised platform, on which the 
ceremony takes place. It was situated exactly in the 
middle of the Abbey, between the two transcepts. It was 
covered to the base of the first step with cloth of gold, and 
thence to the flooring with rich Wilton carpet. St. Ed¬ 
ward’s chair, containing the fatal stone which has been 
previously described, was placed on it, and it was in this 
chair thus situated, that the king received the homage of 
the peers. 

The north and south transcepts were fitted up with rows 
of benches, and close to each window an extensive gallery 
was erected, to which persons were admitted who purchased 
tickets of the Dean and Chapter. The first ten rows of 
benches on each side were kept for the peers and peeresses, 
the peers sitting on the right, and the peeresses on the left 
of the chair of state. Above these rows were others reserved 
for the reception of the friends and relations of the nobility. 
On each side of the transcepts were large galleries, erected 
with great elegance. 

The Sacrarium, or Area, exceeded all the other prepara¬ 
tions in magnificence of decoration. The first object that 
attracted the eye was the altar. The table was six feet 
nine inches in length, and stood upon a platform a little 


106 


COMPANION TO 


above the elevation of the floor, and had a small shelf be¬ 
hind. The whole was covered with blue and gold brocade. 
The top of this covering was panelled with gold broad 
lace, and was edged with gold looped fringe. The bottom 
and sides were bordered with gold lace, and the whole was 
furnished with a deep gold fringe seven inches deep. On 
this were subsequently placed the articles necessary in the 
Coronation. 

The back of .the altar was covered with blue and gold 
brocade. This drapery was coiled up with ropes of gold. 
It was surmounted by a cornice composed of two-inch-and- 
a-half gold and silk rope, with large gilt rosettes to each 
pipe. The fringe was of gold and silk four inches deep. 

On the left hand, or north side of the altar, stood the 
chair of the Archbishop of Canterbury ; it was of oak. 
The back seat and elbows were stuffed and covered with 
velvet of the colour called bishops’ purple, and were panel¬ 
led with gold lace. There was a footstool to match, which 
was covered with purple velvet, and ornamented with 
gymp. Besides this, there was a kneeling cushion for the 
archbishop, covered with purple velvet, with four gold tas¬ 
sels, and a similar cushion for the dean on the other side. 
The step leading to the altar and the floor of the sacrarium, 
were covered with a rich garter-blue and gold Wilton car¬ 
pet. The pattern was a Norman rose, with the ermine. On 
the right of the altar stood the offering table, which was 
covered with blue Genoa velvet, bordered with lace and 
fringed with gold. Upon this, preparatory to the ceremo¬ 
nies, was placed a cushion, upon which the offerings were 
to be made, covered with garter-blue velvet, panelled with 
gold lace, and with four gold tassels at the corners. On 
the south side of the sacrarium was the box provided for 
the female branches of the Royal Family, and also for the 
young princes. On the north side was placed a bench for 
the bishops, who were to assist in the ceremonies. There 
were also in the sacrarium a chair of recognition, and a 
litany chair for each of their majesties. St. Edward’s chair 
stood on the south side of the area in front of the altar. 

At the back of the altar, on the south side, was the en- 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


107 


try to the Traverse, in which their Majesties retired to alter 
their robes at the conclusion of the ceremony. St. Ed¬ 
ward’s Chapel is always appropriated to this purpose. The 
entrances were concealed by green and gold tapestry hang¬ 
ings, corresponding with the adjoining gallery fronts. 

Above was the gallery erected for the members of the 
House of Commons. The benches ascended one above 
another almost to a level with the upper windows. The 
seats were entirely filled, and the greater portion of the 
members appeared in various uniforms, those who were not 
so dressed wore court dresses. The Speaker occupied a 
plain oak chair in the centre closely over the altar, and 
before him lay his mace on a purple cushion. 

At the extreme eastern end of the Abbey, above this gal¬ 
lery, a small one was erected, to enable the King’s trum¬ 
peters to give notice of his Majesty’s entry into, and exit 
from the Abbey, and also to assist occasionally in different 
parts of the ceremony. 

The sittings provided for the public who purchased 
tickets of the officers of the Abbey, were nearly empty; the 
sums asked for sittings were enormous. Five guineas 
were required for a seat in the galleries at the sides of the 
nave, where no part of the ceremony could be seen, and 
only a partial glance obtained of the procession as it passed 
to and from the choir. The seats in the Abbey were ar¬ 
ranged to accommodate rather more than 5000 persons, 
and it is probable that at the ensuing coronation they will 
be better filled. 

The procession arrived at the Abbey in the State Car¬ 
riages, and their Majesties having dismounted, entered bj 
the western doors, and proceeded down the nave into the 
choir. The same order will be observed at the present co¬ 
ronation, and after the sovereign has taken her seat for a 
few minutes, the ceremony will commence with the Arch¬ 
bishop of Canterbury presenting her to the people as their 
rightful queen. This is termed 

THE RECOGNITION. 

The Archbishop advancing to the east end of the plat- 


108 


COMPANION TO 


form on which the throne is placed, addresses the people 
as follows :—• 

a Sirs, I here present unto you Victoria, the rightful inheritor 
of the crown of this realm; wherefore all ye that are come this 
day to do your homage, service, and bounden duty, are ye wil¬ 
ling to do the same ? ” 

These words are repeated at the west, south, and north 
sides of the platform, and at each repetition the people res¬ 
pond with loud huzzas. At the conclusion the trumpets 
are sounded, and the drums beat, and the Sovereign, who 
has risen from her seat to be presented, sits down while 
the choir sing an anthem. This portion of the ceremony 
is evidently a remaining vestige of the ancient form of 
electing the Sovereign. The words of the recognition have 
been altered at different periods, but on all occasions the 
people have been asked for their consent that the monarch 
should be crowned. During the time the feudal tenures 
prevailed, it was customary to present the chief to his 
principal vassals, who recognised him as the rightful heir; 
and some have thought that the recognition is a remaining 
vestige of the custom ; but the present form does not owe 
its origin to any such feudal ceremony, because the vassals 
were never asked if they would render service to their 
Lord, but were commanded to do so, and had no power to 
resist. The Pope first abolished the form of words, asking 
the people if they chose their king to reign over them, at 
the time the church claimed the right to dispose of the 
crown of all Christian countries. It was thought proper, 
however, to retain “ the recognition ” in a modified form. 

After the anthem has concluded, the monarch offers 

THE OBLATIONS. 

Advancing to the altar the Sovereign kneels down, and 
reverently presents a rich pall or covering of cloth of gold to 
the archbishop, to be placed on the altar. The second of¬ 
fering is a pound of pure gold, which is laid upon the pall. 
The archbishop then offers up a prayer beseeching the Al¬ 
mighty to graciously receive these oblations in humble ac- 
’ knowledgment of his sovereignty over all. After the 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


109 


prayer is concluded, the regalia is placed by the side of the 
ingot of gold on the altar, and the Sovereign retires to her 
chair of state, while the proper service for the day is being 
read. After this the communion service is celebrated, and 
a sermon preached, at the conclusion of which the archbi¬ 
shop administers 


THE CORONATION OATH. 

Previous to the oath being taken, it was formerly the 
custom for the monarch to sign the declaration against 
popery ; but this is now omitted from the ceremony, it 
having been signed by the Queen on her accession. The 
oath is administered in the following form:—the archbishop 
addressing her Majesty, says, 

Madam, are you willing to take the oath usually taken by 
your predecessors ? 

Queen. I am willing. 

Archbishop. Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern 
the people of this United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, 
and the dominions thereunto belonging, according to the statues 
in Parliament agreed on, and the respective laws and customs of 
the same? 

Queen. I solemnly promise so to do. 

Archbishop. Will you, to your power, cause law in justice and 
mercy to be executed in all your judgments ? 

Queen. I will. 

Archbishop. Will you, to the utmost of your power, maintain 
the laws of God, the true profession of the Gospel, and the Pro¬ 
testant reformed religion established by law? And will you 
maintain and preserve inviolably the settlement of the Church of 
England, and the doctrine, worship, discipline, and government 
thereof, as by law established, within the kingdoms of England 
and Ireland, the dominion of Wales, and the town of Berwick- 
upon-Tweed, and the territories thereunto belonging before the 
union of the two kingdoms (of England and Scotland)? And 
will you preserve unto the Bishops and Clergy of England and 
Ireland, and to the churches there committed to their charge, all 
such rights and privileges as do or shall appertain unto them or 
any of them ? 

Queen. All this I promise to do. 

The Queen then goes to the altar, and kneeling dow'n, 
lays both her hands upon the holy Gospels, and takes the 
following oath:— 

H 


no 


COMPANION TO 


“ The things which I have herebefore promised, I will perform 
and keep, so help me God.” 

The Sovereign then kisses the Gospels, and signs the 
oath. 

This oath is generally regarded as the most important 
part of the ceremony. It was the one established by Act 
of Parliament immediately after the revolution, and has 
undergone no alteration since, except a verbal amendment 
introduced at the time of the union of Scotland with Eng¬ 
land. In all Christian countries, the sovereign is sworn at 
the time of his coronation, in particular to protect the right 
and interest of the clergy and the church. It is indeed but 
natural that those who have had the framing, and who 
have the administering of the oath, should take care that 
their privileges are not encroached upon; but in some 
cases they have attempted to obtain, in this manner, the 
sanction of the sovereign to acts that are universally re¬ 
garded in the present day as iniquitous and tyrannical. 
Thus, in the coronation oath of the kings of France, the 
following sentence is introduced :— 

“ I will endeavour to the utmost of my power, and with good 
faith, to exterminate all heretics, marked by the church, from my 
land, and the jurisdiction subject to me. And I confirm the afore¬ 
said promise by oath.” 

The coronation oath of Napoleon is remarkable, as a 
contrast to the above, for its extreme liberality, and ab¬ 
sence of unmeaning and unnecessary words. It was ad¬ 
ministered as follows :— 

u I swear to maintain the integrity of the territory of the Re¬ 
public ; to respect, and cause to be respected, equality of rights, 
political and civil liberty, and the inviolability of the sales of 
national property; never to levy any impost, or establish any tax, 
but by virtue of the law, to maintain the institution of the Legion 
of honour, and to govern solely with a view to the interests, the 
happiness, and the glory of the French people.” 

THE ANOINTING. 

After the coronation oath has been administered, the ex¬ 
ternal portions of the Sovereign’s dress are removed, and 
she is conducted to St. Edward’s chair. Upon being seated, 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


Ill 


a canopy is raised above her head, supported by four 
Knights of the Garter, and the archbishop then performs 
the ceremony of anointing. The dean of Westminster 
pours a little of the holy oil from the ampulla into the 
spoon, and the archbishop dips his fingers in the oil, and 
anoints her on the head and hands. The parts anointed, 
are afterwards dried with wool. 

THE INVESTING. 

In the order for the coronation ceremony it is directed 
that after the anointing, the Sovereign shall be invested 
with the Supertunica, girdle, buskins, sandals, spurs and 
sword. As however portions of this ceremony have been 
omitted at different coronations at the request of the 
sovereign, a similar president will be followed at the en¬ 
suing celebration of the ceremony. Subsequently the 
sovereign is invested with the Armial or Stole, and the 
imperial mantle which is exceedingly rich, being formed of 
gold and purple brocade tissue with large flowers of gold, 
which are edged round with deep mazirine blue. The man¬ 
tle is an ecclesiastical vestment, and is placed on the Sove¬ 
reign as a sign that she is invested with a sacred as well 
as a political character. The emblem of majesty the Orb 
is afterwards, placed on the Sovereign’s right hand, and the 
Ring previously described, is put upon the fourth finger 
of the same hand by the Archbishop. 

THE CROWNING. 

The ceremonies just described add little to the eftect 
of the scene, and might well be omitted in order to shorten 
the unnecessarily extended forms. After they have been 
performed, however, the most imposing ceremony of the 
day takes place, viz., the crowning. The monarch being 
seated in St. Edward’s chair, the Archbishop takes the 
crown in his hands, and having repeated a short prayer 
carries it from the altar, and reverently places it on the head 
of the Sovereign. The moment this is done the trumpets 
sound, the drums beat, the people huzza, and the guns in 
St. James Park, and the Tower, fire a royal salute ; a man 


112 


COMPANION TO 


having been stationed on the top of the Abbey to give a 
signal the instant the crowning took place. At the same 
time the peer and the peeresses put on their Coronets, and 
the Queen’s treasurer throws among the company in the 
Abbey quantities of gold and silver coins. Subsequently the 
monarch is presented with the Sceptre, rod, and Bible, after 
which she is conducted to the throne on the raised platform 
to receive 


THE HOMAGE. 

This is the remains of a feudal custom by which the 
vassal promised to perform all the rights and services due 
from him to his superior. The manner in which it is per¬ 
formed at the coronation is as follows :—the Sovereign 
being seated, the Archbishops and the Bishops reverently 
approach, and repeat the following words, kneeling, “ I, 

*-,will be faithful and true, and true faith will bear 

unto you, our Sovereign Lady, and your heirs, monarchs of 
Great Britain ; and I will do and truly acknowledge the 
service of the Lands which I claim to hold of you in right 
of the Church, so help me God! ” The Archbishop and 
the Bishops after him then rise and kiss the Sovereign’s 
hand. The peers perform their fealty in the following man¬ 
ner. The premier Duke present at the coronation, who in 
this instance will be the Duke of Sussex, advancing to 
where the Queen sits, proclaims aloud on his bended knee ; 
“ I, Augustus, Frederick Duke of Sussex, do become your 
liege man of life and limb, and of earthly worship ; and 
faith and troth shall bear unto you, to live and die with 
you against all manner of folk, so help me God! ” The 
premier peers of the different orders of nobility repeat 
the same form of words, which are likewise responded by 
each of the peers in succession. Then advancing to the 
Sovereign they touch the crown with their right hand, to 
show that they are its supporters, and kiss Her Majesty’s 
hand. The custom of kissing the Sovereign’s left cheek is 
to be dispensed with at the present Coronation. 

After the nobility have performed their Homage, an 
anthem is sung by the choir, and the Sovereign then 



WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


113 


receives tlie sacrament. In the course of the communion 
service the Queen makes a second oblation of an ingot of 
gold, and after the service has finished the Archbishop 
pronounces a benediction on Her Majesty and the people 
assembled, and this brings the ceremony of the coronation 
to a conclusion. The Queen will then retire and change 
her robes, and afterwards proceed from the Abbey in the 
same state as she arrived at it. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

Magnificence of Ancient Coronations.—Henry the Third’s Queen. 

The office of Champion—The form of giving the Challenge 

at theCoronation Feast. 

The Coronation of a Sovereign has always been the occa¬ 
sion at which the nobility of England have displayed their 
wealth and power, with a profusion and magnificence that 
could only be exhibited by the higher class of a rich and 
powerful country. In former times the wealthy of the 
land vied with each other on such occasions, in having the 
largest retinue and the most expensive decorations, and to 
such an extent was this carried, that we need not wonder 
at sumptuary laws being passed to repress extravagance. 
Noblemen frequently spent the greater portion of their 
incomes in a single feast, and we may readily suppose that 
if they would do this on ordinary occasions, they would be 
still more profuse at a national ceremony, when the eyes of 
the whole country were upon them, and when to be thought 
mean would be the greatest disgrace that could attach itself 
to the character of a nobleman. It is probable, therefore, 
that the coronation ceremonies of former times far exceeded 
those of the present day in magnificence, and the people 
enjoyed no small portion of the feasting and amusements 
that ensued. 

On the occasion of Eleanor, the Queen of Henry the 
Third, being crowned, on the 22nd of January, 1236, the 
king caused six thousand poor men, women, and children, 




114 


COMPANION TO 


to be entertained in Westminster Hall, and the rooms of 
the palace. Stowe says,— 

“ The citizens rode to meet the king and queen, being clothed 
in long garments embroidered about with golde and silke of divers 
coloures, their horses finely trapped in array to the number of 
three hundred and sixty, every man bearing golden or silver cups 
in their hands, and the king's trumpters before them sounding. 
The citie was adorned with silkes, and in the night with lamps, 
cressetts, and other lights, without number, besides many pa¬ 
geants and strange devices which were shown. To this coronation 
resorted so great a number of all estates, that the citie of London 
was scarce able to receive them. The archbishop of Canterbury 
did exercise the office of coronation ; the citizens of Winchester 
took charge of the kitchen, and other citizens attended their 
charges.” 

When any foreign princes honoured the ceremony by 
their presence, they greatly increased the general joy on 
the occasion by a bountiful distribution of their wealth 
amongst the people. Thus, when at the coronation of 
Edward I., the King of Scotland attended, He was ac¬ 
companied,” says an old writer, “ by one hundred knights, 
on horseback, who, as soon as they had dismounted, turned 
their steeds loose for anyone to catch and keep that thought 
proper. Then came Edmund, Earl of Cornwall, the King’s 
Nephew, the Earls of Gloucester, Pembroke, and Warenne, 
each having in their company a hundred illustrious 
Knights, wearing their Lord’s armour; and when they had 
alighted from their palfreys, they also set them free, that 
whoever chose might take them unquestioned. And the 
aqueduct in Cheapside poured forth white wine and red, 
like rain water, for those who would to drink at pleasure.’’ 
Gold and silver were likewise profusely scattered among 
the populace by the more affluent citizens. 

It was formerly the custom for the Monarch to reside in 
the tower of London for some time previous to the Coro¬ 
nation, and the procession took place from the tower to 
Westminster, passing through the City. This afforded the 
inhabitants an opportunity of displaying their loyalty by 
adorning their houses, erecting triumphal arches, and such 
like proceedings. 

Sometimes on such occasions a tournament was held, at 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


115 


which the knights of foreign countries were invited to at¬ 
tend. When Henry VIII. was crowned, an event of this 
kind occurred. 

A circumstance that contributed very much to the splen¬ 
dour of a coronation was, that very many of the nobility 
were obliged to attend and perform some particular service, 
which was required of them at the time their land and 
title were originally granted. Of the various services per¬ 
formed, none perhaps are better known than those of the 
champion. This is the only form of chivalry now apper¬ 
taining to the ceremony, and on this account it is interest¬ 
ing ; although it certainly does appear somewhat farcical 
that the champion should be allowed to throw down a 
challenge in the presence of his sovereign, which if any 
man were to accept it would subject him to fine and im¬ 
prisonment “ until he could find good bail for attempting 
to disturb the peace of our sovereign lady the Queen.” 
In former times trial by battle was considered to be the 
most satisfactory mode of settling a quarrel. It was de¬ 
clared by the Pope to be an appeal to the judgment of God 
himself, and hence it was in frequent use amongst the 
nobility. 

We believe there is no occasion recorded where the chal¬ 
lenge of the champion has been accepted, and it was there¬ 
fore, quite as safe to have it given in favour of a usurper, 
as of the rightful heir. 

The ceremony which the champion performs will be 
dispensed with at the ensuing coronation, in consequence 
of there being no feast given in Westminster Hall. It is 
between the first and second course that the champion 
enters the hall, attended by his esquires and pages, with a 
herald to proclaim the challenge, and with the earl marshal 
of England on his left hand, and the lord high constable 
on his right; both being on horseback. Wlien they have 
all arrived at the lower end of the hall, the herald would pro¬ 
claim the challenge in the following words :— 

“ If any person, of what degree soever, high or low, shall deny 
or gainsay our sovereign Victoria , of the United Kingdom of 
Great Britain aud Ireland, Defender of the Faith, and so forth, 
Queen, and next heir to our Sovereign William the Fourth de- 


116 


COMPANION 


ceased, to be the right heir to the imperial crown of this realm of 
Great Britain, or that she ought not to enjoy the same, here is her 
champion, who saith that he lietli, and is a false traitor, being 
ready in person to combat with him ; and in this quarrel will ad¬ 
venture his life against him, on what day soever shall be ap¬ 
pointed. ” 

This is proclaimed at the centre and other end of the 
hall, and after each repetition the champion throws down 
his gauntlet in token of defiance ; which no one picking 
tip, after a pause, the herald performs that office. Then 
the Sovereign orders a gold cup to he filled with wine, 
which having tasted, is presented to the champion, who 
makes a low obeisance to the Sovereign, and having drunk 
a portion of the wine, retires with the cup in his hand, 
which he retains as his fee. He is also entitled to one of 
the Sovereign’s great coursers, with a saddle, harness, and 
trappings of cloth of gold ; and one of the best suits of 
armour, with cases of cloth of gold, and all such other 
things appertaining to the Sovereign’s body as the Sovereign 
ought to have if personally going into mortal battle. 

The general rejoicings at the celebration of the ceremony 
in the present day, depend very much, as they must ever 
do and ever have done, on the provision made for the 
amusement and gratification of the public; and although 
there are no “ conduits running with wine,” or “ sump¬ 
tuous feasts for the people,” they have provided for them 
many amusements of different kinds. The theatres are 
opened gratuitously ; fire-works are let off in Hyde Park ; 
and many whose -wealth will permit them, take advantage 
of the opportunity to increase the happiness of their de¬ 
pendants, and humble neighbours. Although, therefore, 
the coronation may have lost much of its ancient splendour 
and some of its old English hospitality, there is still suf¬ 
ficient to make it a pleasing as well as an important cere¬ 
mony, and one which the great body of the people would 
be sorry to see discontinued. 


LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!!! 


TO WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


117 


CORONATION 

or 


As a sequel to the Coronation ceremonies which have just been 
described, the following brief account of the principal events 
attending the late performance of the ceremonies may be in¬ 
teresting, both as a short summary of the proceedings that have 
just taken place, and also to refer to at a future period. 

The day appointed for the coronation of the Queen was 
Thursday, June 28, 1838 ; and for many weeks previously ac¬ 
tive preparations were made in the metropolis, for the accom¬ 
modation of the public to view the procession, and to celebrate 
the occasion with all possible splendour. It had been decided 
by Government that the ceremony should be conducted as 
nearly as possible on the same plan as that of his late Majesty, 
and that the Queen and nobility forming the procession should 
proceed in carriages from Buckingham Palace to Westminster 
Abbey, and not on foot, from Westminster Hall, as at the co¬ 
ronation of Geo. IV. It was likewise determined that there 
should be no banquet in the Hall. It was anticipated by many 
persons that this curtailment of the splendour formerly ob¬ 
served was derogatory to the wealth and influence of the British 
nation ; but so many kinds of amusement had been provided 
for the people, and they entered so heartily into the spirit of the 
occasion, that no one appeared to think the proceedings could 
have been conducted more satisfactorily. 

I 


1 IS 


COMPAN ION TO 


The procession left Buckingham Palace at a few minutes past 
ten o’clock in the morning, in the following order :— 

Mr. Lee, the High Constable of the City of Westminster. 

A Squadron of Life Guard?. 

Under the direction of one of the Queen’s Equerries, with two Assistants 

Carriages of the Foreign Resident Ambassadors and Ministers, in the order in which 
they take precedence in this country. 

The Charge d’Affaires of Mexico. 

The Charge d’Affaires of Portugal. 

The Charge d-Affaires of Sweden. 

The Saxon Minister. 

The Hanoverian Minister. 

The Greek Minister. 

The Sardinian Minister. 

The Spanish Minister. 

The Minister from the United States. 

The Minister from the Netherlands. 

The Brazilian Minister. 

The Bavarian Minister. 

The Danish Minister. 

The Belgian Minister. 

The Wurtemberg Minister. 

The Prussian Minister. 

Carriages of the Foreign Ambassadors and Ministers Extraordinary, in the order in 
which they respectively report their arrival in this country. 

Ahmed Fethij Pasha, Ambassador Extraordinary from the Sultan. 

Marshal Soult, Ambassador Extraordinary from the Ki,ng of the French. 

Duke de Palmella, Ambassador Extraordinary from the Queen of Portugal. 
Count Lowenhjelm, Ambassador Extraordinary from the King of Sweden. 
Marquis de Brignole, Ambassador Extraordinary from the King of Sardinia. 
Count Alten, Ambassador Extraordinary from the King of Hanover. 

Prince de Putbus, Ambassador Extraordinary from the King of Prussia. 
Marquis de Miraflores, Ambassador Extraordinary from the Queen of Spain. 
Baron de Capellen, Ambassador Extraordinary from the King of the Netherlands. 
Prince Schwarzenburg, Ambassador Extraordinary from the Emperior of Austria. 
Count Strogonoff, Ambassador Extraordinary from the Emperor of Russia. 
Prince de Ligne, Ambassador Extraordinary from the King of the Belgians. 
Count Ludolf, Ambassador Extraordinary from the King of the Two Sicilies. 

The Turkish Ambassador. 

The French Ambassador 
The Russian Ambassador. 

The Austrian Ambassador. 

Mounted Band of a Regiment of Household Brigade. 

Detachment of Life Guards. 

Under the direction of one of Her Majesty’s Equerries, with two Assistants :_ 

Carriages of the Branches of the Royal Family, with their respective Escorts. 
The Duchess of Kent and Attendants, 

In Her Royal Highness's two Carriages, each drawn by six horses ; with her proper 

Escort of Life Guards. 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY 


119 


The Duchess of Gloucester and Attendants, 

In her Royal Highness’s two Carriages, each drawn by six horses; with her proper 

Escort of Life Guards. 

Duke and Duchess of Cambridge and Attendants, 

In his Royal Highness’s two Carriages, each drawn by six horses ; with his proper 

Escort of Life Guards. 

The Duke of Sussex and Attendants, 

In his Royal Highness’s Carriage, drawn by six horses; with his proper Escort of 

Life Guards. 

Mounted Band of a Regiment of the household Brigade. 

Under the direction of one of the Queen’s Equerries, with two Assistants :— 

The Queen’s Bargemaster. 

The Queen’s Forty-eight Watermen. 

HER MAJESTY’S CARRIAGES, 

Each drawn by six horses. 

Two Grooms The First Carriage Two Grooms 

walking. Conveyed walking. 

Two Pages of Honour—James Charles M. Covell, Esq., and George Cavendish, Esq. 
Two Gentlemen Ushers—Major Beresford, and Captain Green. 

Two Grooms The Second Carriage, Two Grooms 

walking. drawn by Six Bays, walking. 

Conveyed 

Two Pages of Honour—Charles Ellice, Esq., and Lord Kilmarnock 
Two Gentlemen Ushers—Charles Heneage, Esq., and the Hon. F. Byng. 

Two Grooms The Third Carriage, Two Grooms 

walking. drawn by Six Bays, walking. 

Conveyed 

Two Bedchamber Women—Ladies Theresa Digby, and Charlotte Copley. 

Two Grooms in Waiting—The Hon. George Keppel, and Henry Rich, Esq. 
Two Grooms The Fourth Carriage, Two Grooms 

walking. drawn by Six Bays, walking. 

Conveyed 

Two Bedchamber Women—Ladies Harriet Clive, and Caroline Barrington. 
Two Grooms in Waiting—The Hon. William Cooper, and Sir Frederick Stovin. 
Two Grooms The Fifth Carriage, Two Grooms 

walking. drawn by six Bays, walking. 

Conveyed 

Two Maids of Honour—The Honourables Misses Rice, and Murray. 

Groom of the Robes, Captain Francis Seymour. 

Clerk Marshal, Hon. Col. Cavendish. 

Two Grooms The Sixth Carriage, Two Grooms 

walking. drawn by six Bays, walking. 

Conveyed 

Two Maids of Honour—The Honourables Misses Lister, and Paget. 
Keeper of Privy Purse, Sir Henry Wheatley. 

Vice-Chamberlain, Earl of Belfast. 

Two Grooms The Seventh Carriage, Two Grooms 

walking. drawn by six Bays, walking. 

Conveyed 

Two Maids of Honour—The Honourables Misses Cavendish and Cocks. 
Treasurer of the Household, Earl of Surrey. 

Controller of the Household, The Right Hon. G. Byng. 



120 


COMPANION TO 


Two Grooms The Eighth Carriage, Two Grooms 

walking. drawn by six Bays, walking. 

Conveyed 

Two Maids of Honour—The Honourables Misses Dillon, and Pitt. 

Two Lords in Waiting—Lords Gardner, and Lilford 

Two Grooms The Ninth Carriage, Two Grooms, 

walking. drawn by six Grays, walking. 

Conveyed 

Two Ladies of the Bedchamber—Ladies Portman, and Barham. 

Two Lo ds in Waiting-Lord Byron, and Viscount Falkland. 

Two Grooms The Tenth Carriage, Two Grooms, 

walking. drawn by six Bays, walking. 

Conveyed 

Two Ladies of the Bedchamber—Lady Lyttleton, and Countess of Mulgrave. 
Two Lords in Waiting-Viscount Torrington, and Earl of Uxbridge. 

Two Grooms The Eleventh Carriage, Two Grooms 

walking. drawn by six Bays, walking. 

Conveyed 

Two Ladies of the Bedchamber—Countess of Charlemont, Marchioness of Tavistock. 
Two Lords in Waiting-The Earl of Fingal, and Marquis of Headfort. 

Two Grooms The Twelfth Carriage, Two Grooms 

walking. drawn by six Blacks, walking. 

Conveyed 

The Principal Lady of the Bedchamber—The Marchioness of Lansdowne. 

The Lord Chamberlain, The Marquis Conyngham. 

The Lord Steward, The Duke of Argyll. 

A Squadron of Life Guards. 

Mounted Band of the Household Brigade. 

Military Staff and Aides-de-camp, on Horseback, 

Three and Three, 

Sir R. Gardiner, Colonel Freemantle, Lord G. Russell, 

Colonel Wynyard, Colonel Fergusson, Colonel Brotherton, 

Sir A. J. Dalrymple, Sir J. H. Reynett, Colonel Smelt, 

Colonel Arnold, Colonel Wemyss, Colonel Wood. 

First and Principal Aide-de-Camp to the Queen, 

Lieutenant-General Sir Herbert Taylor, G.C. B., 
attended by the Equerry of the Crown Stable, Sir George Quentin. 

The Queen's Gentleman Rider, J. Fozzard, Esq. 

Deputy Adjutant-General, Major-General, J. Gardiner. 

Deputy Quartermaster-General, Colonel Freeth, K.H. 

Deputy Adjutant-General, Royal Artillery, Sir Alexander Dickson. 
Quartermaster-General, Sir. J. Willoughby Gordon, Bart. 

Military Secretary to the Commander-in-Chief, Lord Fitzroy Somerset, K.C.B. 
Adjutant-General, Sir J. Macdonald, K.C.B. 

The Royal Huntsmen, Yeomen Prickers, and Forresters. 

Six of Her Majesty’s Horses, 
with Rich Trappings, each Horse led by two Grooms. 

The Knight Marshal, Sir J. C. Lamb, Bart. 

Marshalmen in ranks of Four. 

The First Exons of the Yeomen of the Guard, on horseback. 

Sir Thomas Curteis, Knight, 

The Second Exon, Samuel Hancock, Esq. 





WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


121 


The Third Exon, Captain William Bellairs. 

The Fourth Exon, J. Nuttall, Esq. 

One hundred Yeomen of the Guard, Four and Four. 

The Clerk of the Check, James Bunce Curling, Esq. 

Harbinger, Samuel Wilson, Esq. 

Ensign Sir Thomas N. Reeve. 

Lieutenant Sir Samuel Spry, M.P. 

THE STATE COACH, 

Drawn by Eight Cream-coloured Horses, 
attended by a Yeoman of the Guard at each wheel, and 
two Footmen at each door. 

The Gold Stick, And the Captain of the Yeoman of the Guard, 

Viscount Combermere, the Earl of Ilchester. 

riding on either side, attended by two grooms each. 

Conveying 

THE QUEEN, 

The Mistress of the Robes, the Duchess of Sutherland, 

The Master of the Horse, the Earl of Albemarle. 

The Captain-General of the Royal Archers, the Duke of Buccleuch, 
Attended by two Grooms. 

A Squadron of Life Guards. 

Having proceededed up Constitution Hill, along Piccadilly, 
down St. James’s-street, Pall Mall, Charing Cross, and Parlia¬ 
ment-street, the procession reached the Abbey at half-past eleven 
o’clock. About half an hour afterwards the ceremony in the 
Abbey commenced, and was conducted in the manner we have 
described in the preceding pages. The only incidents that re¬ 
quire notice were the mishaps of some of the peers in perform¬ 
ing their homage, and that the crown of state was new for the 
occasion. It was composed of hoops of silver, inclosing a cap of 
deep purple, or rather blue velvet. The hoops are completely 
covered with precious stones, surmounted with a ball, covered 
with small diamonds, and having a Maltese cross of brilliants on 
the top of it. The cross has in its centre the splendid sapphire 
before described. The rim of the crown is clustered with bril¬ 
liants, and ornamented with fleur de lis and Maltese crosses 
equally rich. In front of the Maltese cross, which is in front 
of the crown, is the enormous heart-shaped ruby ; and beneath 
this, in the circular rim, is an immense sapphire. There are 
many other precious stones, emeralds, rubies, and sapphires, 
and several small clusters of drop pearls. The lower part of 
the crown is surrounded with ermine. It is, upon the whole, a 
most dazzling and splendid crown, and does infinite credit to 
those by whom it has been designed and put together. Its 
weight is about three pounds. 

The Coronation ceremony was performed by the Archbishop 


122 


COMPANION TO 


of Canterbury, and the sermon was preached by the Bishop of 
London. The service lasted four hours, and at its conclusion 
the Queen returned to the Palace in the same state as she came 
from it. The procession was graced by the presence of Am¬ 
bassadors extraordinary from all the European Courts, and the 
decorations of the carriages, &c., were splendid in the extreme. 
The hammercloth alone of the Queen’s carriage, cost 1000/.; 
and the other portions of the equipages were on a similar scale 
of magnificence. 

The appearance of the streets through which the procession 
passed, reminded the spectators of the “ olden time,” when, on 
such occasions of public rejoicing, the fronts of the houses were 
adorned with tapestry and garlands of flowers. Wherever a 
sight could be obtained galleries had been raised, and these 
were beautified with exceedingly good taste. Most of them had 
crimson or other coloured cloth, festooned in front, and the 
pillars which supported the temporary roofs were wreathed with 
laurel and flowers. One of these galleries, erected by the order 
of the Duke of Devonshire, in front of his house in Piccadilly, 
was perhaps as handsome as anything of the kind could be ; 
and a similar desire to combine elegance with convenience was 
observable in all the temporary galleries raised along the line of 
streets through which the Queen passed. 

The amusements provided for the people have never been 
surpassed. Instead of having, as formerly, barrels of beer, &c., 
opened in the streets, and such like proceedings, a more rational 
entertainment was provided. Nearly every place of public 
amusement in London was opened for the evening. The tickets 
for admission were distributed gratuitously the day previous, 
so that the theatres were not filled more than on ordinary occa¬ 
sions ; and, indeeed, many of them were very thinly attended, 
in consequence of the people being attracted elsewhere by other 
amusements. The patent theatres received 400/. each, and the 
minors 100/. each, for the use of the house and the company for 
the evening. 

In addition to these entertainments a fair was held in Hyde 
Park, which continued three days. It was the largest ever 
known in London; and the booths, &c., having been erected 
under the superintendence of an officer in the police, every 
means was taken to prevent confusion, and increase the enjoy¬ 
ments of those who attended. 

In the afternoon a balloon ascended from the Green Park, 
close to the ranger’s in Piccadilly, from whence the gas was laid 
on, so that every one had an opportunity of witnessing the in- 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY, 


123 


flation, and every thing connected with what is generally con¬ 
sidered so interesting an occurrence. 

In each of the Parks—in the Green Park, adjoining the 
Palace, and in Hyde Park, near the Bayswater Gate—were 
erected two very large fire-work galleries, from which, at about 
eleven o’clock in the evening, commenced a most magnificent 
display. The artists who had been engaged to prepare the fire¬ 
works exerted themselves to the utmost of their abilities, and 
the result was an exhibition such as had not been witnessed 
since the grand jubilee, in celebration of the fiftieth year of the 
reign of George III., in 1810. The discharge of the fire-works 
continued for two hours, and such a display will probably not be 
seen again for many years. The Queen and nobility at the 
Palace witnessed the exhibition from the balconies. 

The concourse of people who attended these entertainments 
were immense; and yet, in consequence of the excellent ar¬ 
rangements that had been made, the whole passed off in the 
best manner possible. A general holiday was observed through¬ 
out London ; all the shops were closed, and business was sus¬ 
pended for the day. The crowd in the streets was immense, 
and yet very few accidents, and those of a trivial nature, oc¬ 
curred. Along the streets through which the Queen passed, 
policemen and soldiers were stationed a few paces apart from 
each other, and by this means preserved the road clear; and in 
consequence of the people being thus obliged to form a line 
along the pavement, very little difficulty was experienced by 
those who were content to remain on one spot for some little 
time, in viewing the procession. The streets were more 
crowded in the morning than when the Queen returned in the 
afternoon, the people not having dispersed themselves so much 
at the different places of amusement. 

In the evening the whole of London w r as brilliantly illumi¬ 
nated, and the various tradesmen seemed to vie with each other 
in producing the grandest display. The use of gas instead of 
oil in the lamps rendered the streets as light as day, and greatly 
increased the brilliancy of the illuminations. 

Great praise is due to those who made the various arrange¬ 
ments for the ceremony and proceedings connected with it, for 
the excellent manner in which every difficulty was provided 
against, and the enjoyments of the people secured in the most 
perfect manner. 



124 


COMPANION TO 


MEMOIRS 

OF THE 

PRINCIPAL POETS HAVING MONUMENTS IN 

THE ABBEY. 


There are few persons who, after visiting the Abbey, 
have not wished to know something more respecting the 
originals of the monuments they have seen, than can be 
learnt from the guide or the epitaphs. We naturally wish 
to ascertain what has raised these individuals so high above 
their fellow countrymen, that they are honoured with a 
tomb in an edifice sacred to genius, rank, and talent. And 
the gratification of such a desire, in the minds of young 
persons, may he made productions of much benefit; it may 
be made the means of conveying instruction of the most 
useful kind in a pleasing and agreeable form. Biography 
is the most interesting kind of history, and when it relates 
to such persons as those who lie buried in Westminster 
Abbey, it possesses an additional attraction. In the fol¬ 
lowing pages, eah memoir will convey some lesson that 
may he studied with advantage. However eminent may 
have been the poet, or however great the fame of the phi¬ 
losopher, they were but men, and as such were liable to all 
the frailties and passions of others less gifted than themselves. 
In viewing their follies, therefore, we do but hold the mir¬ 
ror up to nature for our own inspection, and it will be well 
if we try to imitate their virtues with the same alacrity with 
which we detect their faults. 

CHAUCER. 

A little to the left, on entering the Abbey from the door 
at Poet’s Corner, stands the monument erected to the me¬ 
mory of “ the father of English poetry,” Geoffrey Chau- 



WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


129 


cer. It is an old tomb, so old, indeed, that the inscription 
on it has become obliterated, and it is with great difficulty 
that even the name “ Chaucer,” can be deciphered. But 
he requires “ no storied urn or animated bust” to preserve 
his name from perishing ; the works he has left behind him 
will do this even when the monument that records his name 
has crumbled into dust. We are indebted in a great mea¬ 
sure to Chaucer for the first important improvement in our 
language. He not merely improved it; he introduced so 
many words of continental origin in his poetry, that he 
entirely remodelled the English tongue; and has left be¬ 
hind him, in his “ Canterbury Tales,” an imperishable 
evidence of his genius. Amongst the number of illustrious 
names that surround the spectator in Poet’s Corner, that of 
Chaucer is alone likely to be passed unnoticed, in conse¬ 
quence of the present state of the tomb, which reflects 
little honour on the many admirers of his writings in the 
present day. It was erected in 1556, and originally bore 
the following inscription in Latin :—■ 

u Of English bards, who sang the sweetest strains, 

Old Geoffery Chaucer now this tomb contains : 

For his death’s date if reader thou shouldst call, 

Look but beneath, and it will tell thee all.” 

25 October, 1400. 

N. Brigham placed these, in the nameof the Muses, at his own 
expense, 1556. 

And the following lines are said to have been inscribed 
on a brass ledge, since removed :— 

“ If who I was you ask, Fame shall declare ; 

If Fame denies, since frail all glories are, 

These stones shall speak, inscribed with pious care.” 

Chaucer was born in London in the year 1328. Re¬ 
specting his parents nothing is known ; but his name, de¬ 
rived from the French, would seem to imply “ a shoe¬ 
maker,” from whence it is probable that his ancestors had 
derived their surname from their calling. His parents 
must, however, have moved in a respectable rank in so¬ 
ciety, since he was educated at Oxford. He is said to have 
made so rapid a progress in his studies, that he composed 

K 


130 


COMPANION TO 


the “ Court of Love,” a poetical piece of considerable 
merit, at the age of eighteen years. Shortly after leaving 
Oxford, he obtained an introduction to some of the influen¬ 
tial persons in the court of Edward III., and was employed 
occasionally on state business. Previous to this, how¬ 
ever, he had for a time made the law his study, and be¬ 
longed to the Inner Temple. He was at this time rather 
gay in his manners, and there is a record preserved wherein 
it is stated, that “ Geoffery Chaucer w T as fined two shillings 
for beating a Franciscan Friar in Fleet-street.” He is said 
to have been while young one of the handsomest men of 
his time. His complexion is depicted in an original pic¬ 
ture as fair and beautiful; his lips red and full, his figure 
of just proportion, and his air graceful and majestic. Hav¬ 
ing been introduced to the Duke of Lancaster, he soon 
found means to make himself of service to that nobleman, 
and obtained his patronage and support. The king 
granted him an annuity of twenty marks, and he was em¬ 
ployed as a page at court. The royal family then fre¬ 
quently resided at Woodstock, and lately there existed a 
square stone house at this place, which was said to have 
been the residence of Chaucer. Here he had opportunity 
to cultivate his taste for poetry, although unlike most of 
the writers of that period, he at the same time attended to 
his business, or, more properly speaking, his professional 
duties. His course of living in this rural scene was tem¬ 
perate and regular; he was excessively fond of walking, 
and preferred it before all other sports and exercises ; and 
to his going to rest with the sun and rising with the lark, 
we are probably indebted for the many beautiful descrip¬ 
tions in his poetry of evening and the dawn of day, that 
still charm us by their freshness of reality. Having been 
appointed one of the three envoys to proceed to Genoa on 
state business, he was present at a marriage feast in Italy, 
and had the opportunity of being introduced to the great 
Italian poet, Petrarch, and several others. It is probably 
to this fortunate circumstance that we are indebted for the 
“ Canterbury Tales.” They are many of them taken from 
Boccacio’s “ Decameron,” and are written on a singular 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


131 


plan. It was no doubt in consequence of his intimacy 
with the Italian poets, that he conceived the idea of his own 
work. Chaucer subsequently obtained the office of comp¬ 
troller of the wool customs, and also of wines, on condi¬ 
tion that he should write the rolls respecting the wools 
“ with his own hand, and not execute the office by sub¬ 
stitute,” a practice very frequent when even the nobility of 
the land could not very often write their own names, but 
were obliged to sign documents with a cross. He is repre¬ 
sented as having filled the office with strict integrity, and 
not to have incurred the slightest censure for any dishonest 
practices, when, in consequence of the enormous embezzle¬ 
ments in the customs, the offices were purged in the reign 
of Edward III. He was now in the height of his prospe¬ 
rity, but having unfortunately involved himself in a dis- 
sention between the citizens of London and the court, he 
was obliged to fly to France for protection. The origin of 
the quarrel was in consequence of the Lord Mayor of Lon¬ 
don having attempted to reform many ecclesiastical abuses 
against which Wickliffe, the early English reformer of the 
church, had preached with great success. Chaucer was no 
enemy to religion, nor to the church of Rome either, but he 
assailed in the strongest terms the licentiousness of the 
clergy. It is remarkable how great a proportion persons 
connected with ecclesiastical establishments bear to the 
other travellers in Chaucer’s celebrated “ Canterbury 
Tales and if in selecting his company he gives us a faith¬ 
ful picture of the state of society, it is a strong illustration 
of the undue preponderance of the clerical profession, and of 
the multiplication of convents, monastries, and religious 
orders, to the injury even of the church. In a promiscu¬ 
ous assemblage of thirty-one persons belonging to the mid¬ 
dle classes of society, we find a prioresse, a nonne , three 
preestes, a monk, a frere, a clerk of Oxenford, a persone, 
a soumpnour , a pardonere. Although, however, he at¬ 
tacked the vices of most of these persons, he was a sincere 
admirer of clergymen who lived as became their profession. 
In proof of this, we may adduce the following description 
of a “poor parson” from “The Canterbury Tales,” and 

K 2 


132 


COMPANION TO 


which will afford a fair specimen of Chaucer’s powers as a 
poet. The character has been admired in all ages :— 

“ A good man, ther was, of religioun, 

That was a poure Personf of a town : 

But riche he was of holy thought and werk, 

He was also a lerned man, a clerk, 

That Cristes gospel trewly wolde preche ; 

His parishens devoutly wolde he teche. 

Benigne he was, and wonder diligent, 

And in adversite fill patient,— 

And such he was proved often sithes : 

Ful loth were him to cursen for his tithes; 

But rather wolde he yeven, out of doute, 

Unto his poure parishens, about, 

Of his ofTring, and, eke, of his substance. 

He coude in little thing have suffisance. 

Wide was his parish, and houses fer asonder ; 

But he ne left nought, for no rain ne thunder, 

In sikeness and in mischief to visite 
The ferrest in his parish, moche and lite,— 

Upon his fete, and in his hand a staf. 

This noble ensample to his shepe he yaf,— 

That, first he wrought; and afterward he taught; 

Out of the gospel he the wordes caught, 

And this figure he added yet thereto, 

That if gold rust, what shuld iren do ? 

For if a priest be foule, on whom we trust, 

No wondur is alewde man to rust: 

And shame it is, if that a preest take kepe, 

To see an unclene shepherd, and clenesheepe, 

Wei ought a preest ensample for to yeve, 

By his clenesse how now his shepe shulde live.” 

Such lines as these show how well the poet could appre¬ 
ciate the Christian character; and it was not, therefore, for 
attacking religion, but for his exposure of the vices of the 
clergy, that he was persecuted and driven into exile. Un¬ 
happily, “ when troubles come, they come not single spies, 
but in battalions,” and the poet soon had to experience 
the ingratitude of those for whom he had suffered banish¬ 
ment, as well as the misery of such a state. The friend 
on whom he had depended to remit him supplies of money 
from his income, suddenly discontinued doing so, and left 
Chaucer to starve in a foreign country. Under these cir- 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


133 


cumstances he was obliged again to return to England, 
where his retreat was soon discovered, and as the only 
means of escaping punishment and again being restored to 
favour, he confessed the plots that had been and were 
hatching to disturb the government of the city. For this 
he was bitterly reproached by many of his cotemporaries, 
but with how much justice, it is impossible at this distance 
of time to determine. 

After this the poet suffered much from pecuniary difficul¬ 
ties, and was obliged to seek the king’s protection from 
arrest. Richard II. granted him this protection for two 
years, and afterwards bestowed on him an annuity and 
various privileges that tended to soften the evils attendant 
on old age. To this state he attained, and after having 
passed a life full of adventures and shaded by misfortune, 
he met death with the serenity of a Christian on the 25th 
of October, 1400. He was buried in the great south aisle 
of the Abbev. 

Chaucer was in full possession of a high reputation when 
he died. Unlike many scholars and poets, he had not 
confined himself to the cloisters, but was well acquainted 
with the world. He “ studied from the life, and in the 
original perused mankind.” Hence it is, that although his 
poetry was written nearly 500 years ago, it still presents 
to us scenes and characters that are to be met with in the 
present day. The age in which he wrote was rude; so¬ 
ciety was not polished, and therefore some of his poems 
contain indelicacies of language that render them, to a cer¬ 
tain extent, unfit for general perusal. But these faults are 
few, and in some modern editions have been entirely 
avoided. There can be little doubt but that, as the taste 
for reading is more generally diffused amongst the people, 
he will become as great a favourite with them, as he is now 
with the select few who can and do appreciate his worth 
and excellence. 

Chaucer’s character claims our admiration not merely on 
account of the genius he exhibited, but for the integrity 
and moral worth he displayed during a long and active 
life in the public service. His gratitude to the Duke of 
Lancaster for the patronage he extended to him, continued 


134 


COMPANION TO 


to the latest moment of his life ; and his pen was frequently 
engaged in defending and eulogising his benefactor. When 
young, Chaucer appears to have “ loved gaiety and pur¬ 
sued the phantom pleasurebut as age crept on this dis¬ 
position was changed, and he became sedate and reserved 
in his manner. This increased almost to a fault in the 
latter years of his life, so much so, that on one occasion the 
Countess of Essex was induced to tell him that “ his ab¬ 
sence created more mirth than his conversation.” He was 
married when in the flower of his age to a lady in the suite 
of the Duchess of Lancaster, to whom he was introduced 
and recommended by the duke. He left behind him two 
sons, the eldest of whom attained considerable celebrity, 
and was three times speaker of the House of Commons. 

Chaucer is known chiefly by his principal work, the 
Canterbury Tales, but besides these he wrote many of a 
poetical description of great merit; and although in the 
work just mentioned he appears to excel in humorous 
description, yet he was equally successful when his writings 
were of a pathetic character. He was also the author of 
several prose works ; in all he appears to have endea¬ 
voured to improve the morals and the manners of the peo¬ 
ple. He was a severe satirist, and the immoral conduct of 
many of the clergy in his time afforded him a wide field in 
which to exercise his power. Yet as we have seen in the 
specimen of his poetry we have given, he could justly ap¬ 
preciate the worth and merit of those who were entitled to 
praise, and he did not fail to approve their conduct. His 
genius appears to have consisted rather in perfecting than 
in inventing : thus the Canterbury Tales are well known to 
have been written on the plan of the Decameron of Boc- 
cacio, and many of the tales are translations from the 
Italian poets. The plan of the work is exceedingly sim¬ 
ple ; a number of pilgrims to the shrine at Canterbury 
agree, in order to relieve the tedium of the journey and 
amuse the company, to relate some tales ; this they ac¬ 
cordingly do, and the collection forms the poet’s chief pro¬ 
duction. The admirable manner in which he details 
them will undoubtedly prove a lasting monument of his 
fame. 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


135 


SPENSER. 

Next to Chaucer, the second great poet of this country in 
regard to time, is Edmund Spenser. He was born in 
London in the year 1553, and his family appears to have 
been respectable from the circumstance of his being sent to 
college to complete his education. Here he formed a 
friendship with many persons of distinction, by some of 
whom he was introduced to the celebrated Sir Philip Sid¬ 
ney, who obtained for him the protection and support of 
the Earl of Leicester, at whose mansion in Kent he resided 
for a long period. To these noblemen he dedicated his 
first productions, and the manner in which he was re¬ 
warded may be learned from the following anecdote :—Be¬ 
fore any part of the “ Faerie Queen ” was published, a 
portion of it was submitted to Sir Philip Sidney for his 
approval. It is said that on reading the description of 
“ despair,” he was so delighted with its poetic excellence 
that he ordered his steward to pay Spenser fifty pounds. 
Sidney’s delight and admiration increased as he proceeded; 
he ordered a second, a third, and fourth remuneration, till 
at last the bounty reached two hundred pounds. He then 
directed his steward to pay the poet immediately, lest he 
should bestow the whole of his estate on the writer of such 
verses.” The manner in which the patrons of literature 
used to bestow their rewards in those days renders this 
story extremely probable. Shortly afterwards, Spenser, 
through the influence of the Earl of Leicester, obtained the 
office of secretary to the lord lieutenant of Ireland, and 
about the same time formed an intimacy with Sir Walter 
Raleigh. Being recalled from Ireland, he subsequently 
resided a short time at the court; and afterwards obtained 
a grant of the forfeited lands of the Earl of Desmond, at 
Cork, in Ireland. By the term of the grant he was obliged 
to reside on his estate, and thither he accordingly removed; 
and in this place, away from The turmoil of politics and 
the cares of business, he finished the “ Faerie Queene.” 
This work introduced him to the notice of Queen Eliza¬ 
beth, by whom he was appointed “ poet laureate,” with a 
pension of fifty pounds a year. Spenser, however, had 


136 


COMPANION TO 


many difficulties to contend with in order to obtain the 
reward of royal favour. When the queen’s councillor, 
Lord Burleigh, heard of the pension, he told her that it 
was beyond example too great to be given to a ballad- 
maker , and for a time intercepted the payment of the money. 
Upon another occasion, when Spenser presented some 
poems to the queen, she ordered him the gratuity of one 
hundred pounds. Burleigh was astonished at so large a 
sum of money being bestowed on a poet, and asked, 
“ What! all this for a song ?” The queen replied, “ Then 
give him what is reason.’’ The poet, however, having long 
waited in vain for the fulfilment of the royal order, pre¬ 
sented to her majesty a memorial in rhyme, which pro¬ 
duced immediate payment. The memorial was as fol¬ 
lows :— 

“I was promised on a time, 

To have reason for my rhyme ; 

From that time unto this season, 

I received nor rhyme nor reason.” 

Shortly after receiving the pension, Spenser married an 
Irish lady, whom he has celebrated in several sonnets as 
the “ fair Elizabeth,” and resided in Ireland on his estate 
for many years. That unhajipy country was, however, 
even then distracted by internal commotions ; a rebellion 
broke out, and Spenser was obliged to fly for his life. His 
having accepted the forfeited lands of an Irish nobleman, 
and the manner in which he had executed the office of 
secretary to the lord lieutenant, rendered him particularly 
obnoxious to the rebels ; and on arriving at his castle they 
fired it, and burnt to death his infant child, who had been 
left behind in consequence of the haste with which he had 
been obliged to leave his home. These misfortunes, and 
the poverty to which he was in consequence reduced, 
preyed so heavily upon his mind that in a few months his 
constitution was destroyed ; and he is represented as end¬ 
ing his life at an obscure inn or lodging-house in King 
Street, Westminster, of that most terrible of all earthly 
afflictions—a broken heart! He died on the 16 th of Jan- 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


137 


uary, 1598, having left Ireland the September previous. 
Shortly after his death the Earl of Essex caused a monu¬ 
ment to be erected to his memory in Westminster Abbey, 
which was subsequently renewed by the Countess of Dorset. 

Of the personal character of Spenser it is impossible at 
this remote period to obtain much authentic information. 
The “ prince of poets in his time needs noe other witnesse 
than the workes which he left behinde him.” These show 
him to have been a fond admirer of nature, and as such 
not given to those habits of sensual gratification which 
constituted the principal source of enjoyment to the gentle¬ 
men of that age. He displays the fondest affection for his 
wife, and the cause of his death proves that he was a man 
of acute sensibility. 

From the time of Chaucer till the birth of Spenser, litera¬ 
ture in this country had remained almost without cultiva¬ 
tion. The language itself had not been fixed ; although 
much had been done towards perfecting it, and creating at 
the same time a desire for reading, by the translation of 
the Scriptures and their distribution amongst the people. 
But with Spenser a new era commenced, literature from 
the lowest state of neglect rose at once to the highest pitch 
of excellence. “ There never was anything like the sixty 
or seventy years that elapsed from the middle of Elizabeth’s 
reign to the period of the Restoration,” says a modem 
critic, “ in point of real force and originality of genius; 
neither the age of Pericles nor the age of Augustus, can 
come at all into comparison.” Spenser was the first who 
brought about this happy change. The publication of the 
“ Faery Queen” produced the first beneficial effect on the 
public mind. It is a poem intended to pourtray in an al¬ 
legory, the excellence of the virtues who are personified by 
various knights and ladies. Spenser wrote a letter ex¬ 
planatory to “ the right noble and valorous Sir Walter 
Raleigh, Knight;” which fully describes the intention of 
the work, and at the same time exhibits a curious specimen 
of the poet’s prose. It says— 

“ The general end of all the book is to fashion a gentle¬ 
man or noble person in virtuous and gentle discipline ; 

k 3 


138 


COMPANION TO 


which, for that, I conceived should be most plausible and 
pleasing, being coloured with an historical fiction,—the 
which the most part of men delight to read, rather for 
variety of matter, than for profit of the example—I chose 
the history of King Arthur, as most fit for the excellency 
of his person, being made famous by many men’s former 
works—and also furthest from the danger of envy and 
suspicion of present time. I labour to pourtray in Arthur, 
before he was king, the image of a brave knight, perfected 
in the twelve private moral virtues, as Aristotle hath devised; 
the which is the purpose of the twelve first books, which if 
I find to be well accepted, I may be perhaps encouraged 
to frame the other part of politic virtues in his person, after 
that he came to he king, To some I know this method 
will seem unpleasing, which had rather have good disci¬ 
pline delivered plainly in way of precepts, or sermoned at 
large, as they use, than thus cloudily wrapped in allegorical 
devices. But such I think should he satisfied with the use 
of these days, seeing all things accounted by their shows, 
and nothing esteemed that is not delightful and pleasing in 
common sense. So have I laboured to do in the person of 
Arthur; whom I conceive, after his long education by 
Timon, to whom he was by Merlin delivered to be brought 
up, so soon as lie was born of the lady Igrayne,—to have 
seen in a dream or vision the Fairy Queen, with whose 
excellent beauty ravished, he, awaking, resolved to seek 
her out; and so being by Merlin armed, and by Timon 
thoroughly instructed, he went to seek her forth in fairy 
land. 

“ The beginning of my history, if it were to be told by 
an liistorigrapher, should be the twelfth book, which is the 
last, where I devise that the Fairy Queen kept her annual 
feast twelve days; upon which twelve several days the 
occasions of the twelve several adventures happened, which 
being undertaken by twelve several knights, are in these 
twelve books severally handled and discoursed. The first 
was this. In the beginning of the feast there presented himr 
self a tall clownish young man, who falling before the queen 
of the fairies, desired a boon (as the manner then was) which 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


139 


during that feast she might not refuse ; which was that he 
might have the achievement of any adventure which during 
that feast should happen. That being granted, he rested 
him on the floor, unfit through his rusticity for a better 
place. Soon after entered a fair lady in mourning weeds, 
riding on a white ass, with a dwarf behind her leading a 
warlike steed that bore the arms of a knight, and his spear 
in the dwarfs hand. She falling before the queen of the 
fairies, complained that her father and mother, an ancient 
king and queen, had been by a hugh dragon many years 
shut up in a brazen castle, who thence suffered them not 
to issue, and therefore besought the Fairy Queen to assign 
her some one of her knights to take upon him that exploit. 
Presently, that clownish person upstarting, desired that 
adventure ; whereat the queen much wondering and the 
lady much gainsaying ; yet he earnestly importuned his 
desire. In the end the lady told him that unless that 
armour which she brought would serve him (that is the 
armour of a Christian man specified by St. Paul in Ephe¬ 
sians) that he could not succeed in that enterprize ; which 
being forthwith put upon him, with due furniture there¬ 
unto, he seemed the goodliest man in all that company, 
and was well liked of his lady. And afterwards taking on 
him knighthood, and mounting on that strange courser, he 
went forth with her on that adventure : wherein beginneth 
the first book.” 

Only six hooks of the “ Faery Queen” have reached our 
time. It is said the poet completed his design, but that 
the manuscript was lost in a passage from Ireland. The 
poem even with this deficiency is of too great length as an 
allegory ; it is, however, full of beautiful imagery, and the 
versification is smooth and melodious. The stanza adopted 
admits of great variety of composition and expression, and 
in honour of the originator is termed the Spenserian stanza. 
Three very noble poetical works have been composed in it, 
and it is not a little remarkable that all of them remain 
unfinished. The “ Faery Queen ” is imperfect, and it is 
doubtful whether it was ever finished. The Minstrel of 
Dr. Beattie was likewise brought to an abrupt conclusion ; 



140 


COMPANION TO 


and the celebrated Don Juan of Lord Byron, written in the 
same stanza, is a third important poem that remains in¬ 
complete. These three productions, as dissimilar in sub¬ 
ject, style, and execution, as they possibly can be, show 
the beauty of the stanza, and its applicability to every 
species of poetical composition. 

Spenser is entirely free from the grossness that disfigures 
so many of Chaucer’s writings, and although, in conse¬ 
quence of his having endeavoured in many instances to 
render his language unnecessarily obsolete, he is not so 
often referred to by the modern reader as he otherwise 
would be; yet his works on the whole present us with 
“ a well of English undefiled,’’ from which we may derive 
some of the most beautiful imagery, and melodious versi¬ 
fication, to be found in our language. 


SHAKSPEARE. 

It is one of the most remarkable events in literary history, 
that the poet, who during his life was so highly and 
deservedly admired, for the brilliancy of his wit, and 
the beauty of his poetry, and whose writings have subse¬ 
quently become literally “ household words ” to all his 
countrymen, should have had his manners and conversation 
regarded with so little attention, that we are ignorant at 
the present time of nearly everything respecting him. 
Shakspeare has been dead but very little more than two 
hundred years, and yet not one conversational remark, or 
celebrated expression of this great man has reached us : we 
know nothing of his personal habits ; and the materials for 
his brief biography have only been gained from obscure 
sources by the indefatigable industry of his admirers. 

William Shakspeare was born at Stratford on Avon, 
in Warwickshire, the 23rd of April, 1564. His father was a 
respectable tradesman of that town, being a dealer in wool, 
and the great dramatist was sent to school to acquire the 
instruction proper for a person in his station in life. He 
appears, in his younger days, to have been much addicted 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


141 


to what is yniscalled pleasure; and his companions were 
more notorious for their idle and dissolute manners, than 
for the good conduct that renders youth amiable. He no 
doubt acquired many of their vicious habits, as we find 
(and this is the only incident recorded of his early years) 
that he was prosecuted for deer stealing in the park of a 
Sir Thomas Lucy, and in consequence was obliged to quit 
his native town and repair to London. Previous to this 
occurrence, at the early age of nineteen, he married Anne 
Hatha way, whose charms he has celebrated in some pun¬ 
ning lines upon name. It does not appear that his worldly 
fortune was improved by his union, although his wife was 
the daughter of a substantial farmer who resided in his 
neighbourhood ; and the pleasure of her company, and the 
delights of home, were not sufficient to wean him from his 
dissolute companions. He continued to engage with them 
in many of their exploits ; but having, as just mentioned, 
been prosecuted for deer stealing, he repaired to London, 
probably to avoid the consequences ; not, however, before 
he had written a satirical attack in verse upon Sir Thomas 
Lucv; which, although in no way indicating a superior 
genius, show's that his education was far better than that 
of many persons in a similar rank of life to himself, who, 
at that period, could not even write their ow'n names. 

When Shakspeare arrived in London, he appears to 
have been immediately attracted to the place where he 
would most probably meet with company as nearly resem¬ 
bling that he had left behind as possible ; this was the 
playhouse. Theatres at that time w'ere regarded in a very 
different light to what they are at present. They were the 
rendezvous for the fops of the court, the rake, the man of 
pleasure, and others, whose chief care was how to pass 
their time pleasantly, not how to improve it. The theatre 
was an amusement, but nothing more; and the manners of 
the age tolerated indecencies in performance and in language, 
that rendered it an amusement of a highly immoral and per¬ 
nicious tendency. To the theatre, however, Shakspeare 
first directed his steps, and obtained a situation in some 
humble capacity. What this was in the first instance, is 


142 


COMPANION TO 


not distinctly known : it is said that lie merely took care 
of the horses at the door until the performance was con¬ 
cluded : but “ the Globe ” theatre, at which he was first 
engaged, was situated on the banks of the Thames, in 
Southwark, and the company generally came by water, and 
not on horseback, so that there could be little employment 
for him in the capacity assigned. It appears more proba¬ 
ble that he was first engaged as “ call boy,” to let the per¬ 
formers know when they were required on the stage. 
This, however, is one of the meanest offices at the theatre ; 
and it is therefore apparent, either that Shakspeare when 
he arrived in London was in a state of extreme want, and 
obliged to accept any situation he could procure, or that 
his passion for the stage made him accept the humblest 
employment offered him connected with it. By degrees 
his talent begun to exhibit itself: he became a performer, 
and afterwards commenced writing those exqusite tragedies 
and comedies that have made his name an honour to his 
country, and spread his fame over the whole world. His 
works soon introduced him to the notice of the nobility 
and the literary men of his age. Queen Elizabeth herself 
had his plays repeatedly performed before her, and was so 
much delighted with the character of Sir John Falstaff, in 
the tragedy of Henry the Fourth, that she desired him to 
write another play, in which the adventures of the fat 
knight should be continued. Shakspeare accordingly com¬ 
posed “the Merry Wives of Windsor” for that purpose, 
and was well rewarded by the queen for his labours. He 
was also patronized by the Earl of Southampton, and 
many other noblemen of that time. His first play was 
written when he was about twenty-seven years old ; but it 
is probable that before that time he was in the habit of re¬ 
vising and preparing the works of others for the stage. 
The first play he wrote is supposed to have been “ A Mid¬ 
summer Night’s Dream,” and the last, “ Twelfth Night.” 
In all, thirty-five plays are attributed to his pen, but of 
these probably three or four are the productions of others, 
with additions by himself. Having acquired money by his 
earlier productions, he was enabled to become a part pro- 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


143 


prietor in the theatre at Bankside, and realized considerable 
property. With this he purchased a house in his native 
town of Stratford on Avon, to which he soon afterwards 
retired, to pass the remainder of his life in the enjoyment 
of the fruits of his labours, and the company of his friends. 
His death appears to have been sudden. He made his 
will in the beginning of the year 1616, “in perfect health 
and memory,” hut died on his birthday, the 23rd of April 
following. It is not known what disorder terminated his 
existence; hut being only 53 years old, it was probably 
by one of the casualities to which we are all liable. He 
was buried in the church-yard of his native town. 

Of the moral character of Shakspeare, we must in some 
measure be allowed to judge from probabilities. He was 
evidently not regular and temperate in his youth, but it is 
also certain that after his arrival in London, his manners 
underwent a great change, and he became an affectionate 
husband and kind parent. In describing the character of 
Henry V., he has portrayed his own, and no language can 
better describe his intellectual and moral worth. 

“Hear him but reason in divinity, 

And, all admiring, with an inward wish 
You would desire that he were made a prelate : 

Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs, 

You would say,—it had been all-in-all his study : 

List his discourse of war, and you shall hear 
A fearful battle render’d you in music : 

Turn him to any cause of policy, 

The Gordian knot of it he will unloose 
Familiar as his garter ; that, when he speaks, 

The air, a charter’d libertine, is still, 

And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, 

To steal his sweet and honied sentences ; 

So that the art and practice part of life 
Must be the mistress to this theoric : 

Which is a wonder, how his grace should glean it, 

Since his addiction was to courses vain; 

His companies unletter’d, rude, and shallow ; 

His hours fill’d up with riots, banquets, sports ; 

And never noted in him any study, 

Any retirement, any sequestration 
From open haunts and popularity. 


144 


COMPANION TO 


The strawberry grows underneath the nettle; 

And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best, 

Neighbour’d by fruit of baser quality : 

And so the prince obscur’d his contemplation 
Under the veil of wildness ; which, no doubt, 

Grew like the summer grass, faster by night, 

Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty.” 

Dr. Johnson has analysed the worth of Shakspeare, as a 
writer, with a power and discrimination that surpasses 
every other critic. It is subjoined as the best criticism 
that has yet been written on the subject, “ Shakspeare,” 
says he, “ is, above all writers, at least all modern writers, 
the poet of nature ; the poet that holds up to his readers a 
faithful mirror of manners and of life. His characters are 
not modified by the custom of particular places, unpractised 
by the rest of the world ; by the peculiarities of studies or 
professions, which can operate but upon small numbers ; 
or by the accidents of transient fashions, or temporary 
opinions ; they are the genuine progeny of common hu¬ 
manity, such as the world will always supply, and obser¬ 
vation will always find. His persons act and speak by 
the influence of those general passions and principles by 
which all minds are agitated, and the whole system of life 
is continued in motion. In the writings of other poets, a 
character is too often an individual; in those of Shakspeare 
it is commonly a species. It is from this wide extension 
of design that so much instruction is derived. It is this 
which fills the plays of Shakspeare with practical axioms 
and domestic wisdom. It was said of Euripides, that 
every verse was a precept; and it may be said of Shak¬ 
speare, that from his works may be collected a system of 
civil and economical prudence. Yet his real power is not 
shown in the splendour of particular passages, but in the 
progress of his fable, and the tenor of his dialogue ; and 
he that tries to recommend him by select quotations, will 
succeed like the pedant in Hierocles ; who, when he offered 
his house to sale, carried a brick in his pocket as a speci¬ 
men. Upon every other stage the universal agent is love, 
by whose power all good and evil is distributed, and every 
action quickened or retarded. But love is only one of 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


145 


many passions ; and, as it has no great influence upon the 
sum of life, it has little operation in the dramas of a poet 
who caught his ideas from the living world, and exhibited 
only what he saw before him. He knew that any other 
passion, as it was regular or exhorbitant, was a cause of 
happiness or calamity. Characters thus ample and general 
were not easily discriminated and preserved; yet perhaps 
no poet ever kept his characters more distinct from each 
other. Other dramatists can only gain attention by hy¬ 
perbolical or aggravated characters, by fabulous and un¬ 
exampled excellence or depravity, as the writers of barba¬ 
rous romances invigorated the reader by a giant and a 
dwarf; and he that should from his expectations of human 
affairs, from the play, or from the tale, would be equally 
deceived. Shakspeare has no heroes ; his scenes are occu¬ 
pied only by men who act and speak as the reader thinks 
that he should himself have spoken or acted on the same 
occasion : even where the agency is supernatural, the dia¬ 
logue is level with life. Other writers disguise the most 
natural passions, and most frequent incidents ; so that he 
who contemplates them in the book will not know them in 
the world. Shakspeare approximates the remote, and fa¬ 
miliarises the wonderful; the event which he represents 
will not happen ; but, if it were possible, its effects would 
probably be such as he had assigned : and it may be said, 
that he has not only shown human nature as it acts in real 
exigencies ; but as it would be found in trials to which it 
cannot be exposed. This, therefore, is the praise of Shak¬ 
speare ; that his drama is the mirror of life; that he who 
has mazed his imagination in following the phantoms 
which other writers raise up before him, may here be cured 
of his delicious ecstacies, by reading human sentiments in 
human language; by scenes from which a hermit may 
estimate the transactions of the world, and a confessor pre¬ 
dict the progress of the passions.” 

The monument to the memory of Shakspeare in the 
south transcept of the Abbey, was erected in the year 
1740 ; a public subscription having been raised for the 
purpose. The receipts of the two theatres, Drury Lane 


146 


COMPANION TO 


and Covent Garden, for one night, were appropriated to 
the same purpose. 


BEN JONSON. 

Amongst the writers who have contributed to the beauty 
and advancement of our language, few are entitled to be 
spoken of with greater respect than Benjamin Jonson. 
He was the son of a clergyman, and was born on the 11th 
June 1574. At an early age he was placed at Westminster 
School, being intended for the clerical profession ; but his 
mother having been left a widow in poor circumstances, 
was induced to marry a bricklayer, by whom Jonson was 
taken from school, and obliged to apply to the same trade. 
Being however naturally of a high spirit, and likewise a 
scholar, he felt himself degraded by his employment, and 
enlisted as a soldier to fight against the Spaniards. Return¬ 
ing to England he found friends who placed him at St. 
John's College, Cambridge, but engaging in a duel he killed 
his adversary, for which he was tried and condemned to be 
executed. His friends obtained his pardon, and he then 
engaged himself in several strolling companies as an actor, 
and was afterwards made poet Laureate to James I. By 
the kindness of Shakspeare he was first brought into notice 
as a dramatic writer, and produced several plays which 
were favourably received. Poverty however compelled 
him to apply to Charles I for an increase of his pension, 
but the king in reply sent him only ten guineas. This 
meanness exasperated Jonson, and he is said to have told the 
messenger, “His Majesty has sent me ten guineas be¬ 
cause I am poor and live in an alley ; go and tell him that 
his soul lives in an alley.” His Majesty received the mes¬ 
sage as a good jest, and presented the poet with a hundred 
pounds. Pie was afterwards rewarded with an annual 
salary of that amount, and a tierce of Canary wine, the 
perquisite of all poets Laureate since his time. He died in 
1637, in the 63rd year of his age, and was buried in West¬ 
minster Abbey. His monument is well known from its 
quaint epitaph. “ O rare Ben Jonson,” which is said 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


147 


originally to have been cut in the stone for eighteen-pence, 
at the desire of Sir John Young, who was present when the 
grave was covered in. This story however is very impro¬ 
bable. Sir William Davenant paid for the erection of the 
monument subsequently, and is generally supposed to be 
author of the Epitaph. 

The literary merit of Jonson must be estimated by the 
effect his writings had in advancing the literature of the age 
in which he lived, rather than by their intrinsic worth com¬ 
pared with the production of more modern times. But they 
contain much good poetry ; and he particularly excelled in 
an epigrammatic style, of which his epitaph on Sir Philip 
Sidney’s sister is a well known and beautiful example,— 

“ Underneath this marble herse 
Lies the subject of all verse 
Sidney’s sister Pembroke’s mother. 

Death ! ere thou hast slain another 
Learn’d, and fair, and good as she, 

Time shall throw a dart at thee.” 

This epitaph on Shakspeare is also remarkable for its 
characteristic quaintness. 

“The figure that thou here seest put, 

It was for gentle Shakspeare cut; 

Wherein the graver had a strife 
With nature to outdo the life. 

O, could he but have drawn his wit 
As well in brass, as he hath hit 
This face, the print would then surpass 
All that was even writ in brass : 

But since he cannot, reader, look, 

Not on his picture, but his book.” 


MILTON. 

It is unfortunate for the memory of Milton that his Bio¬ 
graphy has been written by Dr. Johnson. Differing in 
his ideas of government, life and manners, not less than in 
his religious opinions, and estimate of poetic excellence, it 
is not surprising that the biographer should have condemned 
in the poet what he opposed in the world. The consequence 






148 


COMPANION TO 


of this diversity of feeling is, that many of Milton’s opin¬ 
ions and actions are perverted or misrepresented by Johnson, 
and motives are imputed to him that he never entertained. 
The moral worth of the author of “ Paradise Lost,” must 
however he appreciated as it deserves, by those who will 
judge him by the benevolent tendency of his works and 
actions, rather than by the false standard of opinion only. 

John Milton was born 9th Dec., 1608, in Bread Street, 
Cheapside, London. In his earlier years he received the 
education proper for the son of a gentleman ; having 
first studied under a private tutor, afterwards at St. Paul’s 
School, and subsequently at Christ’s College, Cambridge. 
In his earlier years he displayed considerable precocity of 
intellect, and studied the Latin language with so much suc¬ 
cess that he is said to have been 44 the first Englishman who, 
after the revival of letters, wrote Latin verses with classic 
elegance.’’ In 1628 he obtained a degree of bachelor of 
arts, but subsequently quitted college in disgust, having 
been disgraced for some trifling fault by corporeal punish¬ 
ment. He was the last student at either university who 
suffered this public indignity. After this he returned and 
lived with his father for a few years, during which period 
he produced 44 the mask of Comus,” and several other ele¬ 
gant poetical compositions. He is described as being at 
this time extremely handsome. His statue was about the 
middle size, well proportioned, and neither too lean nor too 
corpulent. His limbs were graceful and active, and 44 his 
hair, which was of a light brown, parted at the fore-top and 
hung down upon his shoulders.” His face was full of in¬ 
telligence, and the brightness of his eyes gave no evidence 
of the calamity that was afterwards to befal them. On the 
death of his mother Milton went abroad and visited Paris, 
where he was introduced to the celebrated Grotius. From 
thence he passed on into Italy, and by diligent study made 
himself master of the language ; he visited the academies, 
and by his compositions rose high in the estimation of the 
learned. It was his intention to have proceeded into Greece, 
but the civil war breaking out between Charles the First and 
his parliament, Milton considered it his duty to return home 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


149 


and take a part in the struggle. This he did by support¬ 
ing those who opposed the king ; and not only was his 
powerful pen engaged in the cause, but it is recorded by 
Johnson,—who however endeavours to raise a contemptu¬ 
ous smile at “ the man who hastens home because his 
countrymen are contending for their liberty, and when he 
reaches the scene of action, vapours away his patriotism.” 
It is recorded even by the author of this passage, “ that in 
the civil wars Milton lent his personal estate to the Parlia¬ 
ment, and when after the contest was decided he solicited re¬ 
payment, he met not only with neglect, but sharp rebuke'' 
Being much reduced in circumstances, he undertook the 
education of his sister’s sons, in a small lodging in St. 
Bride’s Church-yard, from whence he afterwards removed to 
Aldersgate Street, and increased the number of his pupils. 
Milton’s scholars however were all of them sons of his 
friends, and in his system of instruction he included what 
was almost neglected in his time, a knowledge of the phy¬ 
sical sciences. About this time he published various politi¬ 
cal works and engaged with eagerness in the controversy 
between the puritans and their opponents. His “ speech 
on the liberty of unlicensed printing/’ is an evidence of his 
power as a writer, and his earnestness as a politician. But 
his great political work was one entitled, “ a defence of the 
people,’’ in answer to a book written by a Dutch professor 
of extraordinary learning, at the request of Charles II., 
called “ a defence of Royalty.” Milton executed his task 
with such wonderful ability that he received a thousand 
pounds from the national purse as his reward, and the book 
was read by all classes of the people. Yet this work was 
executed while he was labouring under a severe attack of 
illness, and while he was gradually losing the power of 
sight. Shortly afterwards he became stone blind, and his 
wife, whom he had married while living in Aldersgate Street, 
died in childbed. His wife had left him shortly after her 
marriage to pay a visit to her friends, and refused to return 
to him. Finding her resolute he published three works 
“ on marriage and divorce,” and declared his intention of 
uniting himself to another lady. His wife seeing him re- 


150 


COMPANION TO 


solute, found means to be reconciled to him, and subse¬ 
quently bore him three children. After her death he again 
married, but this lady died within a twelvemonth, from the 
same cause as his first wife. During this period he was 
engaged as Latin secretary to Cromwell, but on his death, 
having withdrawn himself from public life, he commenced 
the execution of the great poetical work that has immortal¬ 
ized his name. He had tor many years intended to pro¬ 
duce something “ that the world would not willingly let 
die,” and had commenced writing a dictionary of the Eng¬ 
lish language, and a history of this country, but his blind¬ 
ness prevented him bringing these works to a completion. 
“ Paradise Lost,’ - was however commenced under these dis¬ 
advantages, and at a time too when his safety was endan¬ 
gered by the restoration of Charles II. In order to avoid 
persecution he was compelled for a time to secret himself in 
Bartholomew Close, but an act of oblivion having been pass¬ 
ed, his person and property were exempted from danger, 
and he was again at liberty to proceed with his work in 
peace. The manner in which it was produced is a remark¬ 
able illustration of the power of genius to overcome all dif¬ 
ficulties. It is commonly reported that the poem was 
written by Milton's daughters from his dictation, but Dr. 
Johnson asserts, that the daughters did not know how to 
write, and that the poet was obliged to avail himself of the 
assistance of any friend who might call upon him, to write 
such lines as he had composed and retained in his memory. 
The production of so noble an example of the power and 
beauty of our language under such circumstances as these, 
cannot fail to increase our admiration of the poet's genius. 
The poem was the work of many years, and greatly relieved 
the unfortunate condition of Milton in consequence of his 
blindness. This, indeed, was his principal reward, for 
when completed the bookseller would only gi vejive pounds 
for the copyright. It was agreed that the poet should re¬ 
ceive an additional five pounds for every new edition of 
thirteen hundred copies; by which means the bookseller 
secured himself from loss, and in fact only allowed Milton 
to have a small share of the profits that should accrue from 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


151 


the sale of the work. Three editions were printed, and at 
his death his widow sold all her interest in the poem for 
eight pounds ; the whole sum therefore received for “ Para¬ 
dise Lost,” was only twenty-eight pounds. That the poem 
was appreciated at the time of publication is evident from 
the circumstance of thirteen hundred copies having been 
sold in two years, at a time when those who opposed the 
court were neglected or decried, and when the number of 
readers were not in proportion of one in a hundred at the 
present time. Milton’s genius was acknowledged, and he 
was stimulated to renewed exertions. 

Within three years after the publication of “ Paradise 
Lost,” he produced “ Paradise Regained,” a poem, which 
he always regarded with more favour than the former ; but 
the public taste has been uniformly in opposition to his 
judgment. After this he published some essays and minor 
productions, and continued to exercise his pen even to the 
last year of his life. He died of an attack of the gout, by 
which he had long suffered, on the 10th of November, 1674, 
at his house in Eunhill Fields, in the 66th year of his age, 
and was buried in Cripplegate Church. A monument was 
subsequently erected to his memory in the Abbey, but not 
without some opposition. Party feeling was strong against 
him for his advocacy of Republicanism ; “ When the in¬ 
scription for the monument of Phillips, in which he was 
said to be ‘ only second to Milton,’ was exhibited to Dr. 
Spratt, then dean of Westminster, he refused to admit it ; 
the name of Milton was, in his opinion, too detestable to 
be read on the wall of a building dedicated to devotion.” 
The dean who succeeded Spratt, however, allowed the in¬ 
scription to be raised. 

Whatever difference of opinion may exist regarding the 
political character of Milton, his personal character is emi¬ 
nently deserving approbation. He was indefatigable in 
acquiring learning, and we are indebted to his profound 
knowledge on almost every subject, for the beautiful 
imagery with which “ Paradise Lost ” abounds. “ He 
knew all the languages which are considered either as 
learned or polite. Hebrew, with its two dialects, Greek, 


152 


COMPANION TO 


Latin, Italian, French, and Spanish. In Latin, his skill 
was such as places him in the first rank of writers and 
critics, and he appears to have cultivated Italian with un¬ 
common diligence.” He could repeat nearly the whole of 
Homer by art! He is charged by Johnson with being se¬ 
vere and arbitrary in his family, but no proof of this is 
given, except that his opinion of what ought to constitute 
the education of women did not allow him to instruct his 
daughters so liberally as we may think he should have done. 
When he was offered an official situation under Charles II., 
and was pressed by his wife to accept it, he said to her, 
“ You, like other women, want to ride in your coach ; my 
wish is to live and die like an honest man.” Such conduct 
may appear arbitrary to a few, but the majority of mankind 
will applaud it as conscientious and praiseworthy. We 
have, however, positive proofs of his benevolence and kind¬ 
ness of disposition. When the relations of his first wife, 
who had caused him much anguish of mind by inducing 
her to leave him, were in distress and danger for their poli¬ 
tical opinions, which were opposed to his, he received 
them into his house, and kindly entertained them for a long 
time. And by his influence, his brother, whose politics 
were likewise in opposition to his own, was protected from 
danger, and enabled to pursue a lucrative profession with 
success. Milton was extremely temperate in his habits. 
He seldom drank anything stronger than water, and his 
diet was very frugal. When young, he was accus¬ 
tomed to sit up late at night to study, but finding that this 
practice injured his health, he afterwards went earlier to 
rest,— about nine or ten o’clock in the evening, and rose 
at four in summer and five in the winter. It is pleasing 
to contemplate the simple habits of this great man, and see 
with what trifling amusements he could solace himself un¬ 
der his heavy affliction—blindness ; and when he had 
“ fallen on evil days and evil tongues, with darkness and 
with danger compass’d round.” After he was blind, when 
he first rose in the morning, he had a chapter in the He¬ 
brew Bible read to him, and studied till twelve ; he then 
took exercise for an hour and afterwards dined. He then 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


153 


entertained himself with some simple amusement. He was 
fond of swinging, and sometimes played upon an organ 
and sung, or had one of his daughters to sing to him. Af¬ 
terwards he again studied till six ; then saw company till 
eight, “ then supped, and after a pipe of tobacco and a glass 
of water, went to bed.” 

Whatever faults the character of Milton may present, we 
cannot but admire the undeviating honesty with which he 
supported the cause that he thought just, not being content 
merely to chastise his opponents with “ the valour of his 
tongue,” hut giving up to the cause his time and fortune 
also. Nor can we less admire the simplicity of character 
that made him withdraw himself from the world when the 
licentiousness of the court of Charles II. began to infect 
and poison the manners of society. He bore all his mis¬ 
fortunes with exemplary patience, and even the dreadful 
calamity of blindness—to a mind like his, perhaps the 
most awful that could happen-—only stimulated him to turn 
his eyes within and view himself, and undertake the pro¬ 
duction of that surpassing poem, the glory of his country 
and the admiration of the world. 


BUTLER. 

The life of Samuel Butler, the author of the well- 
known Hudibras, presents little to attract the attention of 
the general reader, although the merits of his works forbid 
us to pass him by entirely without notice. He was born 
at the commencement of the year 1612, and after receiving 
his education at the free grammar school at Worcester, his 
father, “ an honest farmer with some small estate,” con¬ 
trived to send him to Cambridge University, on leaving 
which, he became clerk to a justice of the peace in Worces¬ 
tershire. In this situation he appears to have been able to 
cultivate his taste for the fine arts ; he was a proficient in 
music and painting. But such amusements were much 
discountenanced by the Puritans, and when at a subsequent 
period he entered the family of one of Cromwell’s officers, 
he was obliged to forego the pleasure he derived from the 

L 



154 


COMPANION TO 


cultivation of his taste. This circumstance probably had 
considerable influence in strengthening his repugnance to 
the puritans, and it was while in the family of the officer 
just mentioned, that he first commenced “ Hudibras,’’ tak¬ 
ing the character of his master for the model of his hero. 
On the return of Charles II., he published the first part of 
the poem, which was received with much applause by the 
king and court. Party feeling gave it an astonishing cele¬ 
brity, but praise was the author’s sole reward. The work, 
however, introduced him to several friends, in whose so¬ 
ciety he experienced much pleasure. He had previously 
married a lady of small fortune, on which he lived, and not 
having applied himself to any profession, his means of sup¬ 
port were limited. In consequence of the neglect with 
which he was treated, “ Hudibras’’ was never completed, 
the first three parts having alone been written. Butler died 
in obscurity in 1680, and was buried in Covent-garden 
church-yard ; a subscription that was set on foot for bury¬ 
ing him in Westminster Abbey having failed! The mo¬ 
nument at present erected in the Abbey was placed there 
about sixty years after his death by Mr. Barber, a citizen 
of London. 

Of the poem of “ Hudibras,” Dr. Johnson remarks, it is 
one of those compositions of which a nation may justly 
boast, as the images which it exhibits are domestic, the 
sentiments unborrowed and unexpected, and the strain of 
diction original and peculiar. The poem is not, however, 
wholly English ; the original idea is to be found in the 
“ History of Don Quixote,” a book to which a mind of the 
greatest powers may be indebted without disgrace. Cer¬ 
vantes shows a man, who having by the incessant perusal 
of incredible tales, subjected his understanding to his ima¬ 
gination, and familiarised his mind by pertinacious medita¬ 
tion to trains of incredible events and scenes of impossible 
existence, goes out in the pride of knighthood to redress 
wrongs and defend virgins, to rescue virgin princesses, and 
tumble usurpers from their thrones ; attended by a squire, 
whose cunning, too low for the suspicion of a generous 
mind, enables him often to cheat his master. The hero of 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


1 - r ** 
OO 

Butler is a Presbyterian justice, who, in the confidence of 
legal authority, and the rage of zealous ignorance, ranges 
the country to repress superstition and correct abuses, ac¬ 
companied by an independent clerk, disputatious and ob¬ 
stinate, with whom he often debates, but never conquers. 
Cervantes had so much kindness for Don Quixote, that 
however he embarrasses him with absurd distresses, he 
gives him so much sense and virtue as may preserve our 
esteem ; wherever he is, or whatever he does, he is made, 
by matchless dexterity, commonly ridiculous, but never 
contemptible. But for poor Hudibras his poet had no 
tenderness. He chooses not that any pity should be shown 
or respect paid him ; he gives him up to laughter and con¬ 
tempt, without any quality that can dignify or protect him. 
This, too, is accomplished by the exercise of an inexhaus¬ 
tible fund of wit, such as can be found in no other author, 
and it is scarcely possible to peruse a page without finding 
some association of images that was never found before. 


DRYDEN. 

John Dryden was born on the 9th of August, 1631, 
near Oundle, in Northamptonshire, and received the ele¬ 
ments of his education under the celebrated Dr. Busby, at 
Westminster School. He appears to have made good pro¬ 
gress in his studies, but his early years were not distin¬ 
guished by any great precocity of intellect, since he did not 
make his first appearance as a poetical writer until the 
death of Cromwell, when he eulogised his memory in a 
poem on the occasion. Charles II. immediately succeed¬ 
ing to the throne, Dryden thought it advisable to modify 
his political opinions, and in a short time produced a poeti¬ 
cal effusion “ On the happy Restoration of Charles II.” 
His subsequent exertions pleased the king so well, that he 
was ultimately made Poet Laureate, with a salary of 1001. 
a year, and a tierce of wine. Dryden derived a consider¬ 
able sum likewise from his writings for the stage. He was 
the author of no less than eight-and-twenty plays ; and at 

l 2 


156 


COMPANION TO 


one time agreed to furnish four plays a year to the manager 
of the principal theatre in London. His exertions, how¬ 
ever, did not increase his fortune as we might expect, since 
the profits of a play seldom exceeded one hundred pounds, 
and the greater portion of this sum was derived from the 
proceeds of two or three benefit nights, when the author 
received the profits of the house. The plays at this time 
were all written in rhyme, a fashion which, however much 
it may be ridiculed at the present day by such farces as 
Tom Thumb and Bombastes Furioso, was highly approved 
of by Charles IT. and his court. Dryden’s reputation was 
raised so high by these productions, “ that for some time a 
play was considered as less likely to be well received, if 
some of his verses did not introduce it. The price of a 
prologue was two guineas, till, being asked to write one for 
Mr. Southern, he demanded three; “ Not,” said he, 

“ young man, out of disrespect to you, but the players have 
had my goods too cheap.” He continued his prosperous 
career as a writer till the accession of James II., when he 
suddenly changed his religious opinions, and became a Ca¬ 
tholic. This sudden conversion exposed him for the re¬ 
mainder of his life to the charge of inconsistency, but as he 
continued to hold his belief subsequently, when a change 
of profession would have been advantageous to him, and as 
he brought up his family to the Catholic religion, it is pro¬ 
bable that his conversion was sincere. At the time it pro¬ 
duced him many court favours, and he was engaged in va¬ 
rious controversies to defend the opinions of the king. He 
had previously fallen into disrepute with several of the 
courtiers, having been suspected of writing “ an Essay on 
Satire,” in which the Earl of Rochester, the Duchess of 
Portsmouth, and various other persons of rank, were freely 
censured for their vices. Although it is known now that 
the work was the production of the Duke of Buckingham ; 
the parties ridiculed were so much exasperated by it, that 
they employed some hired ruffians to way-lay and beat 
Dryden severely, thinking that he was probably the author. 
This incident affords us some insight into the manners of 
the period when it occurred. 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


157 

The most celebrated production of his pen connected 
with the change of his religious opinions, is entitled “ The 
Hind and the Panther,” in which the church of Rome 
and the church of England are supposed to he represented 
by those animals, and they debate on the respective merits 
of their opinions. It is a poem of considerable ability, 
but in consequence of the form in which it is written, can 
afford but little instruction or entertainment. At the time 
of its publication, however, it involved him in a long and 
unpleasing controversy, which continued with little inter¬ 
mission till his death. So much of his time, indeed, was 
occupied with the disputes of the day, that he left himself 
little leisure to increase the number of those productions 
which have since rendered his name so celebrated. Of 
these, perhaps, the best known and the most important is 
“ Alexander’s Feast,” which contains every excellence for 
which lyric poetry is esteemed. It is said that this poem 
was produced in a single night, and the rapidity with which 
Dryden composed when under poetic inspiration, renders 
this by no means improbable. As an illustration of the 
ease with which Dryden composed, and the reliance he 
placed in his mental resources, it may be mentioned that 
his fables are the result of an agreement with Tonson, his 
publisher, by which he bound himself to furnish ten thou¬ 
sand verses for three hundred pounds ! 

On the accession of William III., Dryden was deprived 
of his office of Poet Laureat, in consequence of his religious 
opinions, and he was subsequently reduced to great poverty. 
He was compelled to undergo extreme literary labour, in 
order to obtain a bare subsistence, and although occasion¬ 
ally assisted by the great and wealthy, was too frequently 
neglected and forgotten. Like poor Goldsmith, he was the 
slave of the booksellers. It is related, that on one occa¬ 
sion when some friends visited him, as they were about to 
leave, they heard somebody else enter the house ; “ This,” 
said Dryden, “ is Tonson : you will take care not to leave 
before he goes away, for I have not completed the sheet 
which I promised him, and if you leave me unprotected, 1 
must suffer all the rudeness to which his resentment can 



158 


COMPANION TO 


prompt his tongue,” Exposed to such circumstances as 
these, Dryden passed the latter years of his life, till, being 
attacked with a mortification of one of his legs, he expired 
on the 1st of May, 1701, in the seventieth year of his age. 
He was buried in Westminster Abbey, and the tablet and 
bust to his memory were erected at the expense of the Duke 
of Buckingham. He married the lady Elizabeth Howard, 
daughter of the Earl of Berkshire, by whom he left three 
sons. 

Although Dryden, by many of his satires, appears to 
have been coarse and unfeeling in his disposition, his 
friend Congreve says he was of a nature exceedingly hu¬ 
mane and compassionate, ready to forgive injuries, and ca¬ 
pable of a sincere reconciliation with those who had offended 
him. His friendship was lasting, but he was diffident in 
his advances to others, and abhorred intrusion into any 
society whatever. As his reading had been very extensive, 
so was he very happy in possessing a memory which re¬ 
tained nearly all he read. He was not more possessed of 
knowledge than communicative of it, but was devoid of all 
pedantry and conceit. He was extremely ready and gen¬ 
tle in the correction of the errors of any writer who thought 
fit to consult him, and full as ready and patient to admit 
the reprehensions of others, in respect of his own over¬ 
sights or mistakes. 

V-/ 

His literary merit is acknowledged :— 

“ Waller was smooth ; but Dryden taught to join 
The varying verse, the full resounding line, 

The long majestic march, and energy divine.” 

It is only to be regretted that so many of his productions 
are filled with satires, which, however excellent of their 
kind, could possess but a temporary interest. Much of 
his prose is filled with attacks on his opponents of a simi¬ 
lar nature, and well illustrates the savage literary warfare 
that then existed ; but his excellent essays on criticism, by 
which he first showed the power and excellence of our 
language, and illustrated the rules of poetry, are sufficient 
to excuse innumerable conventional errors. “ From his 
prose, however, Dryden derives only his accidental and 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


159 


secondary praise ; the veneration with which his name is 
pronounced by every cultivator of English literature, is paid 
to him, as he refined the language, improved the sentiments, 
and tuned the numbers of English poetry.” 

ADDISON. 

The character of Joseph Addison is generally placed 
before the young as an illustrious example for their study 
and imitation ; and so highly have his writings been ap¬ 
proved, that Dr. Johnson says, “ Whoever wishes to attain 
an English style, familiar, but not coarse, and elegant, but 
not ostentatious, must give his days and nights to the vo¬ 
lumes of Addison. 

He was born on the 1st of May, 1G72, at Milston, in 
Wiltshire, and was christened the same day in consequence 
of being so excessively weak, that it was not expected he 
would survive. It is said he was even laid out for dead, 
but afterwards recovered. After receiving the usual course 
of school education near his own home, he was subsequently 
sent to the Charter House, to perfect himself previous to 
entering College, and it was there he commenced his ac¬ 
quaintance with the celebrated Sir Richard Steele. He 
entered at Queen’s College, Oxford, in 1687, and prose¬ 
cuted his studies with much assiduity. It was his inten¬ 
tion to have become a clergyman of the Church of England, 
but having been persuaded by a friend to resign this inten¬ 
tion, he gave himself up to literary pursuits, and wrote 
some poetry which he dedicated to his friend Montague, 
then Chancellor of the Exchequer, who, probably, in con¬ 
sequence, obtained a pension of 300/. a year for him from 
the national purse. With this income he set out on his 
travels, and after staying a short time on the Continent he 
returned home, and was shortly afterwards made Under¬ 
secretary of State. This honour was conferred on him 
principally in consequence of his having written a very 
pleasing poem in celebration of the victory at Blenheim, at 
the request of Lord Halifax, who subsequently became his 
patron. A year or two after this, Steele commenced the 


160 


COMPANION TO 


publication of the periodical paper that has since become so 
celebrated under the title of “ The Tatler,” and Addison, 
who was in Ireland at the time, having discovered the author 
by his inserting some of Addison’s remarks, the latter im¬ 
mediately assisted his friend by writing a few essays, which 
he continued doing until the decline of the work. The 
“ Tatler ” was succeeded by the “ Spectator,” and various 
other works of a similar nature, which were of eminent ser¬ 
vice in polishing the manners and refining the taste of the 
public. Nothing of the kind had before appeared in Eng¬ 
land, and to them may be attributed the origin of the peri¬ 
odicals of the present time. The great benefit the pub¬ 
lic have derived from these works cannot be too highly ap¬ 
preciated. They have cultivated a taste for reading amongst 
every class of society, more particularly in that which most 
requires it—the working class. And at the same time, in 
consequence of the low price at which these publications 
may be procured, every person has the opportunity of pur¬ 
chasing them. The present and future generations will 
be deeply indebted to Addison and his coadjutors, for hav¬ 
ing first brought to perfection this species of publication ; 
and it is pleasing to know that they saw the beneficial re¬ 
sult of their labours during their own lives. 

A few years after the publication of the “ Tatler,” the 
fame of Addison was still further increased by the produc¬ 
tion of his celebrated tragedy of “ Cato.” It is but ill 
adapted for theatrical representation, but in consequence of 
the violent party spirit at that time prevailing on political 
matters, it was vehemently applauded by those who ap¬ 
proved its principles, and, in consequence, was most suc¬ 
cessfully received, and repeated no less than thirty-five 
nights in succession. Subsequently, on the accession of 
the House of Hanover to the throne of this country, Addi¬ 
son was made Secretary of State, after having been for some 
time Secretary to the Regency. In the interim he married 
the Countess Dowager of Warwick, to whose son he had 
formerly been tutor. Shortly afterwards he was obliged to 
resign the office of Secretary of State upon a plea of ill 
health, in consequence of finding himself wholly unequal to 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


101 

the duties he was required to perform. “ He could uot 
issue an order from his office without losing time in quest 
of fine expressions,’’ and having essayed to make a speech 
in the House of Commons without being able to get beyond 
the first sentence ; he was compelled to give up his situ¬ 
ation with all its honours and emoluments. After this 
event, and shortly before his decease, he attacked and quar¬ 
relled with his old friend Steele, who, however, bore his 
anger with kindness, and retorted his incivility only with 
an extract from his own work “ Cato.” Addison, shortly 
after this, was taken seriously ill, and finding his end ap¬ 
proaching, endeavoured to make it of use in converting 
Lord Warwick, a young man of dissolute character, from 
his irregular habits. He sent for the young Lord, and 
when he approached his bed and inquired with solicitude 
to hear his last request, Addison calmly replied, “ I 
have sent for you that you may see how a Christian can 
die,” and shortly afterwards expired. His death took 
place on the 17th of June, 1719, at Holland House, Ken¬ 
sington. 

The moral character of Addison has generally been re¬ 
garded so much in connection with the tendency of his 
writings, that there are few men whose lives have been 
more strongly recommended for example. But it unfortu¬ 
nately happens that the precepts and actions of authors are 
often greatly at variance ; and if the character of Addison 
be regarded with impartiality and attention, it will be found 
that there are none to whom the remark will apply with 
greater force. He has been praised for his modesty and 
retiring nature, because, as we have seen, he could not 
summon sufficient courage to address the members of the 
House of Commons. It is reported, that the only words 
he could utter were, “ I conceive, Sir, I conceive, Sir,” 
which having repeated some half a dozen times, a member 
of the opposition near him made a pun upon the remark, 
and quite disconcerting Addison, compelled him to sit 
down. Whether such bashfulness as this ought not rather 
to be regarded as a failing against which every man should 
strive, instead of being recommended as a virtue for imita- 


162 


COMPANION TO 


tion, must be left to the good sense of the reader, who will 
hardly decide wrong. A most unamiable trait in the cha¬ 
racter of Addison, was his avariciousness. It is recorded, 
that his affectionate friend Steele, having borrowed a hun¬ 
dred pounds of him, which he was unable to pay on the day 
he had appointed, Addison issued an execution against him 
for the amount. And when Addison was secretary to the 
Lieutenant of Ireland, he made a rule never to omit enforc¬ 
ing the fees to which he was entitled, out of civility, he 
said, to his friends; “ For,” said he, “ I may have a hun¬ 
dred friends, and if my fee be two guineas, I shall, by re¬ 
linquishing my right, lose two hundred guineas, and no 
friend gain more than two ; there is, therefore, no propor¬ 
tion between the good imparted and the evil suffered.” 
Addison need not have apologized if the act required no 
apology ; “a necessary act incurs no blame,’’ and if he 
was in straightened circumstances, he was only acting in 
justice to himself to take the fees. But the desire of pos¬ 
sessing the monej appears to have been the strongest mo¬ 
tive that induced him to accept it. When the “ Spectator ” 
and “ Guardian ” were published, he “ did not satisfy 
himself with the renown he acquired, but with great eager¬ 
ness laid hold on his proportion of the profits.” Nor, in¬ 
deed, is the moral character of this eminent man free from 
the stain of servility. His poverty might excuse his hav¬ 
ing accepted office under the “ impious, profligate, and 
shameless Wharton, as he is termed by Johnson ; but this 
plea will hardly avail him, for his dedication of the opera 
which he wrote, in imitation of the Italian, to the Duchess 
of Marlborough, “ a woman without skill, or pretensions to 
skill, in poetry or literature.” His marriage was the result 
of the same feeling. His desire to be allied to one under 
whom he had formerly served in the humble capacity of 
tutor to her son, made him forget that a union, where there 
could be little or no affection, would not be compensated 
for by any rank or wealth. 

Pope has summed up the faults of Addison in his cele¬ 
brated lines, beginning— 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


163 


u But were there one whose tires 
True genius kindles, and fair fame inspires, 

Bless,d with each talent and each art to please, 

And born to write, converse, and live with ease ; 

Should such a man, too fond to rule alone, 

Bear, like the Turk, no brother near the throne, 

\ iew him with scornful, yet with jealous eyes, 

And hate for arts that caus’d himself to rise ; 

Damn with faint praise, assent with civil leer, 

And without sneering, teach the rest to sneer; 

Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike, 

Just hint a fault, and hesitate dislike ; 

Alike reserv’d to blame or to commend ; 

A tim’rous foe, and a suspicious friend ; 

Dreading ev’n fools ; by flatterers besieged, 

And so obliging, that he ne’er oblig’d : 

Like Cato, give his little senate laws, 

And sit attentive to his own applause; 

While wits and templars ev’ry sentence raise, 

And wonder with a foolish face of praise. 

Who would not grieve if such a mail there be? 

Who would not laugh if Addison were he ? 

The virtues of so eminent a man must not, however, be 
forgotten, because, in common with other men, his charac¬ 
ter exhibits many of the follies and the vices of our nature. 
He was the strenuous advocate of virtue and morality ; he 
attacked with resolution all the meaner vices that disgraced 
the manners of the higher classes ; and in his own person 
he set an example of integrity while in office, and of con¬ 
sistency when out, that it would be well if every statesman 
were to imitate. Notwithstanding what has been before re¬ 
lated of his behaviour to Steel, he seldom refused to oblige 
his friends with the loan of money when they required it; 
and it is recorded, that having lent some money to an ac¬ 
quaintance who generally opposed his opinion on a parti¬ 
cular subject, and finding that his friend, when they after¬ 
wards discussed the question, did not oppose him as before, 
because he felt himself under an obligation, Addison is said 
to have told him, “ that he must either pay him the money, 
or dispute with him as formerly.” 

The literarv works of Addison for some time after his 
death, received a greater share of attention and praise than 


1G4 


COMPANION TO 


they were entitled to, and now they appear to be propor- 
tionably neglected. Yet in them we shall find the obser¬ 
vations of a mind richly endowed with learning, and atten¬ 
tively observant of what was passing in the "world around. 
“ To teach the minuter decencies and inferior duties, to 
regulate the practice of daily conversation, to correct those 
depravities which are rather ridiculous than criminal, and 
remove those grievances which, if they produce no lasting 
calamities, impress hourly vexation,” was the particular 
province of Addison, and that he was successful, no one ac¬ 
quainted with the history of the times when he wrote will 
presume to deny. To sum up his literary character in 
the words of his biographer, Johnson, “ As a describer of 
life and manners, he must be allowed to stand, perhaps, 
the first of the first rank. His humour, which as Steele 
observes, is peculiar to himself, is so happily diffused as to 
give the grace of novelty to domestic scenes and daily oc¬ 
currences. He never “ outsteps the modesty of nature,” 
nor raises merriment or wonder by the violation of truth. 
His figures neither divert by distortion, nor amaze by ag¬ 
gravation. He copies life with so much fidelity, that he 
can be hardly said to invent; yet his exhibitions have an 
air so much original, that it is difficult to suppose them not 
merely the product of imagination. As a teacher of wis¬ 
dom, he may be confidently followed. His religion has 
nothing in it enthusiastic or superstitious ; he appears 
neither weakly, credulous, nor wantonly sceptical; his 
morality is neither dangerously lax, nor impracticably rigid. 
All the enchantment of fancy, and all the cogency of argu¬ 
ment, are employed to recommend to the reader his real 
interest, the care of pleasing the author of his being. Truth 
is shown sometimes as the phantom of a vision ; sometimes 
appears half veiled in an allegory ; sometimes attracts re¬ 
gard in the robes of fancy, and sometimes steps forth in 
the confidence of reason. She wears a thousand dresses, 
and in all is pleasing.” A man who could produce works 
to merit such applause as this, is entitled to have them 
earnestly recommended to the notice of the young, and with 
this recommendation we conclude our short biography. 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


165 


GRAY. 

The author of the celebrated “ Elegy written in a Country 
Church-yard,” Thomas Gray, was horn in Cornhill, Nov. 
26, 1716. His father, who intended him for one of the 
liberal professions, bestowed much pains on his Education ; 
and after he had been some time at a classical school, sent 
him to Eton to complete his studies. Here he became 
acquainted with Horace Walpole, with whom on leaving 
college he travelled for some time on the continent. At 
Florence they quarrelled and parted ; Johnson says, “ Mr. 
Walpole is content to have it told that it was by his fault.” 
If we look, however, without prejudice in the world, we 
shall find that men whose consciousness of their own merits 
sets them above the compliances of servility, are apt 
enough in their association with superiors to watch their 
own dignity with troublesome and punctillious jealousy, 
and in the fervour of independence to exact that attention 
which they refuse to pay.” However this may be in many 
instances, it is certain that Gray’s general disposition will 
relieve him from the imputation. After returning to Eng¬ 
land his father died, and Gray finding his resources in¬ 
sufficient to enable him to enter on a profession with suc¬ 
cess, he determined to retire to Cambridge, where he shortly 
became bachelor of civil law. He now first commenced 
the cultivation of his poetical talents, and in the course of 
the year 1742 produced the “ Prospect of Eton College 
“Ode on Spring;” and “Ode to Adversity.” Gray’s 
prevailing fault was a species of indolence that prevented 
the active exercise of his talents, and deprived the world 
of many intellectual treasures which would most probably 
have been produced, had poverty or a desire for fame 
stimulated him strongly ; and therefore although the three 
poems just mentioned were produced within a year, his 
other works were published at considerable intervals. His 
“ Elegy,” by which he is best known to the English reader, 
and of which it has been said “ had he often written in a 
similar manner, it had been vain to blame, and useless to 
praise him,” was not published till 1750. It was com- 


16G 


COMPANION TO 


pleted long before that period, and was privately circulated 
amongst the author’s friends. By some means it was 
printed in a periodical publication with many errors, and 
Gray then felt himself called upon to publish it with his 
name. This beautiful poem soon attracted general atten¬ 
tion, and brought him before the public. It was univer¬ 
sally admired for the simple and natural feelings it ex¬ 
pressed, no less than for the appropriate language in which 
they were conveyed. Gray’s reputation as a poet was now 
so well established, that the office of Poet Laureate was 
offered him, which he thought proper to decline. He ap- 
lied, however, for the professorship of history at Cambridge; 
but Lord Bute could not or would not accede to his re¬ 
quest. Subsequently, on the death of the professor, it was 
offered to him without solicitation, and he accepted it. Ill 
health, however, prevented him attending to the duties ; 
and although he formed an excellent syllabus for a course 
of lectures, he was from some cause or other continually 
prevented from commencing them. At length he was 
seized with a severe fit of the gout, which attacking his 
stomach, terminated his life on the 30th of July, 1771, in 
the fifty-fifth year of his age. 

The life of a man who continues during nearly the whole 
of his days abstracted from the world within the walls of a 
university, can present but few incidents to render his bio¬ 
graphy interesting ; and such is the case with Gray. Dur¬ 
ing the time he resided at the university he was exempt 
from poverty, and the cares attendant on it, which are 
generally the portion of the Poet; he was therefore favour¬ 
ably situated for the exercise of his talents ; but it appears 
that in most cases an active stimulus is required in order 
to excite the intellect to continued action. Poets and 
other writers who have been blessed with affluence, pro¬ 
duce works remarkable for elegance and care ; but it is only 
the strong pressure of pecuniary want that induces con¬ 
tinued literary exertion, and to their unfortunate circum¬ 
stances we are indebted for the works of Burns, Goldsmith, 
Sir Walter Scott, and many more of our most celebrated 
writers. Gray would probably have written more had he 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


167 


been strongly stimulated to do so ; but having a sufficient 
income to supply his wants, and being satisfied with the 
portion of fame he obtained, his “Elegy,” and one or two 
minor poems, are the only evidences of his genius he has 
left behind. 

A friend describes him as “ perhaps the most learned 
man in Europe. He was equally acquainted with the ele¬ 
gant and profound parts of science, and that not superfi¬ 
cially but thoroughly.’’ It is not genius alone that makes 
the poet; unless Gray had possessed a vast fund of general 
information he could never have adorned his poetry with 
the beautiful allusions and similies with which it abounds. 
He knew every branch of history, both natural and civil ; 
had read all the original historians of England, France, and 
Italy ; and was a great antiquarian. Criticism, meta¬ 
physics, morals, and politics, made a principal part of his 
study ; voyages and travels of every kind were his fa¬ 
vourite amusements, and he had a fine taste in painting, 
prints, architecture, and gardening. With such a fund of 
knowledge his conversation must have been equally in¬ 
structive and entertaining; but he was also a good man, 
a man of virtue and humanity. He is said to have paid 
his esteem to none whom he did not believe to be good as 
well as wise. 

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, 

Heaven did a recompence as largely send; 

He gave misery all he had, a tear; 

He gained from heaven, 'twas all he wished, a friend ! 

No farther seek his merits to disclose, 

Or draw his frailties from their dread abode; 

(There they alike in trembling hope repose), 

The bosom of his father and his God. 


GOLDSMITH. 

There are few men who have been more neglected during 
life, or have received greater literary honours after death, 
than poor Goldsmith—the bookseller’s hack—the literary 
drudge, and yet the writer of the sweetest prose and verse 



168 


COMPANION TO 


to be found in the English language. His life conveys the 
strongest moral lesson we can place before the young, for 
nearly all the many and bitter miseries he was forced to 
undergo were occasioned by a weakness of mind, that un¬ 
fortunately he was never taught in early life to overcome, 
and which in consequence rendered his splendid talents 
of but little use in increasing his happiness, while the 
possession of them gave an additional pang to every mis¬ 
fortune he endured. 

Oliver Goldsmith was the son of a poor Irish clergy¬ 
man, and was born on the 10th of November, 1728, at 
Pallismore, in Longford, Ireland. He received the first 
rudiments of his education at a dame school in the village 
of Lissov, the original of “ Sweet Auburn, loveliest village 
of the plain from whence he was sent to a “ Commercial 
Academy,” his father having determined on bringing him 
up to some useful trade. Subsequently, however, he was 
induced to send young Oliver to Trinity College, Dublin, 
to prepare for the church. The father’s fortune having 
considerably diminished, Goldsmith, in order to remain at 
the college, was obliged to remain as a “ Sizer,”—a poor 
student who would not have to pay many of the fees re¬ 
quired of the richer collegians ; but who was obliged to 
undertake many menial employments, such for example as 
cleaning the courts of the college and carrying up the din¬ 
ner for the fellows. Oliver was a lad of high spirit, who 
most unwillingly remained on terms like these; but for 
the sake of his family he submitted without complaint. 
His tutor, however, was a man of a harsh and unbending 
disposition, and rendered his situation as unpleasant as it 
could be; ultimately he was the occasion of Goldsmith’s 
leaving college under the following circumstances :—Gold¬ 
smith had gained an academic honour for which there were 
numerous competitors, and was so delighted with his vic¬ 
tory that he invited a party of young people of both sexes 
to a supper and dance in his chambers. His tutor as¬ 
tounded with the noise of the unlawful fiddle, entered the 
room, expostulated with Goldsmith, and probably receiv¬ 
ing an intemperate answer, inflicted personal chastisement 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


1G9 


on him before his friends. This insult produced such an 
effect upon Goldsmith, that the next morning he sold oft’ 
all his things, quitted the university, and resolved to em¬ 
bark for America. The great vice of Goldsmith’s character 
was thoughtlessness; he never considered the future, as 
will be seen hereafter, and the last as well as the first misfor¬ 
tune of his life proceeded from this unfortunate character¬ 
istic. Instead of proceeding to carry his intention into 
execution, he loitered about Dublin until he had only a 
single shilling left, and then set out for Cork. On this 
shilling he supported himself for three days, and then 
having sold most of his raiment was reduced to such ex¬ 
tremity, that after fasting twenty-four hours, he thought a 
handful of grey peas given him by a girl at a wake, the 
most comfortable repast he had ever made. He subse¬ 
quently applied to his brother, who effected a reconciliation 
between him and his tutor, and he returned to college. 
This he left at twenty-one, and then lived with his mother 
for two years before applying to be ordained ; during this 
time he added little to his accomplishments, except a 
knowledge of the French language, which however proved 
of eminent service to him in after life. When the time 
came for him to be examined previous to ordination, with 
his usual thoughtlessness, without considering that a cer¬ 
tain kind of dress only was suitable for a clergyman, he 
thought proper to make his appearance in a pair of scarlet 
breeches, with the other portions of his dress correspond¬ 
ing ; this in a great measure determined the diocesan 
against him. He never essayed again to pass the exami¬ 
nation, probably he felt himself unfit for the duties of a 
clergyman ; it is certain that he participated in amuse¬ 
ments but little befitting the clerical character, since “ he 
was long remembered, among other things, as the gainer 
of a prize for throwing the sledge-hammer at the fair of 
Ballymahon! ’’ He was always vain of his muscular 
strength, and frequently when more advanced in years was 
fond of exhibiting it. He afterwards was sent hy his 
friends at the age of twenty-four to the university of Edin¬ 
burgh, to study medicine ; but left it without obtaining a 


170 


COMPANION TO 


degree, being in fear of arrest for a debt of a friend, for 
whom he had become answerable. 

Goldsmith then proceeded to Leyden in Holland, where 
he remained about a year. At this time he was often in 
much distress, and to increase his finances had recourse to 
the gaming-table, by which however he does not appear to 
have realized anything, and at last was obliged to borrow 
a sum of money from a kind friend to enable him to return 
to Ireland. Again, however, he was guilty of an act of 
thoughtless and foolish generosity, productive of the most 
serious consequences. Before leaving Leyden he happened 
to strole into a florist’s garden, where observing some very 
fine tulips, and remembering his uncle Contarine’s love of 
them, he purchased on the spot a quantity of roots to be 
sent to Ireland. This effort of “ affectionate gratitude ” 
again reduced him so low that he ultimately quitted Ley¬ 
den with scarcely any money, and but one clean shirt. He 
determined, however, to make the tour of Europe on foot, 
and having a competent knowledge of French he proceeded 
at once to carry his intention into execution. 

The manner in which he performed this tour he has 
himself described in the “ History of a Philosophic Vaga¬ 
bond,” in his inimitable Vicar of Wakefield . He could 
play upon the flute with much sweetness, and he used to 
gather a little money in the evening by performing on that 
instrument in the public streets. He received much kind¬ 
ness also from the monks and Irish priests in Italy, and is 
supposed when he left France to have been engaged as 
tutor to a young English gentleman. When he landed at 
Dover, however, in February, 1756, he was in a state of 
great distress, and a week afterwards was soliciting em¬ 
ployment at the druggists in London. He had written a 
portion of his “ Traveller ” while on the continent, but he 
could procure nothing for it from the publishers, and lie 
was ultimately glad to obtain a menial situation at an ob¬ 
scure druggist’s at the corner of Bell Yard, near the Monu¬ 
ment. Here he met with an old fellow-student at Edin¬ 
burgh, and by his means was enabled to set up as a physi¬ 
cian ; an extraordinary change from his late employment 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


171 


but he had obtained a degree at a university abroad. His 
finances, however, were hardly sufficient to enable him to 
dress as become his station ; he is said to have been seen 
“in a shirt and neckcloth which he must have worn for a 
fortnight,” and having purchased second-hand a green vel¬ 
vet coat laced with gold, he afterwards discovered to his 
mortification (for he had forgotten to examine it closely 
when it was purchased) that it had an “ unseemly patch”’ 
over the left breast, and one of his patients was highly 
amused when, after several visits, he discovered why the 
doctor always placed his hat on this particular spot while 
delivering an opinion. He afterwards obtained a situation 
on the recommendation of Richardson the author of 
“ Clarissa,” as reader and corrector of the press, with which 
employment he engaged his leisure time. In a short time, 
however, so little did he gain by both these employments, 
that he was glad to accept the situation of usher at a school 
at Peckham. Here he appears to have been treated with 
much kindness; but the rudeness of the boys and many 
little unpleasant circumstances he was obliged to submit to, 
made him determine to quit his situation. The principal 
reason he assigned, in his usual simple and unreserved lan¬ 
guage was, “ that he was obliged to sleep on the same pil¬ 
low with a Frenchman, who stunk him dead with rancid 
pomatums.” He subsequently returned to the school, and 
was introduced by the master, Mr. Milner, to the conductor 
of the “ Monthly Review,” by whom he was engaged to 
write for it, and received into his house. Goldsmith left 
him at the end of a twelvemonth, and then obtained a pre¬ 
carious existence by writing for the magazines. He found 
time also to prepare his “ Enquiry into the State of Polite 
Literature in Europe,” and obtained several small sums in 
advance on it to relieve his urgent necessities, from Dodsley 
the printer. 

Having been strongly urged to endeavour to obtain a 
permanent situation, lie applied to some friends connected 
with the East India Company, who agreed to procure him 
the office of apothecary to one of their ships, if he could 
pass the examination at Surgeons’ Hall; on being exam- 


172 


COMPANION TO 


ined, however, he was found not qualified. In order to 
appear before the examiners, he had been obliged to borrow 
a suit of clothes, for which the conductor of the “ Monthly 
Review” had become answerable, on condition of their 
being returned the next day. Goldsmith, however, on his 
return home pawned the clothes to relieve some pressing 
necessity, and for this act had to submit to much insult and 
even abuse from the lender. It has since been discovered 
that very probably the reason that induced him to commit 
an act so much resembling dishonesty, was in order to re¬ 
lieve the landlord of the house where he lived from gaol; 
he having been taken in execution for some paltry sum. 

Goldsmith lived at this time in Green Arbour Court, 
Old Bailey ; then, as at present, a miserable collection of 
houses occupied only by the poorest poor. To convey 
some idea of the wretchedness of the unfortunate Goldsmith 
at this period, Malone relates, that on visiting him, “ he 
found him employed in writing his ‘ Enquiry into Polite 
Literature,’ in a wretchedly dirty room in which there was 
but one chair ; and when from civility this was offered to 
his visitor, he himself was obliged to sit on the window. 
While they were conversing, some one rapped gently at the 
door, and on being desired to come in, a poor ragged little 
girl of very decent behaviour entered, who dropping a 
courtesy, said, “ My mamma sends her compliments, and 
begs the favour of you to lend her a potfull of coals.’ ” 

To appease Griffiths for the loss of his clothes, Gold¬ 
smith wrote the “ Life of Voltaire,” and subsisted on the 
various small sums he received for the different kinds of 
literary labour he undertook. This was of the most varied 
description, and he laboured incessantly. The works pub¬ 
lished in his name have generally led to the belief that he 
composed slowly, and corrected with great care ; so that his 
productions were masterpieces, and owe their excellence to 
the length of time they took to complete. But in fact, 
Goldsmith was the hardest-worked literary drudge ever 
employed by printer or publisher. He compiled histories 
and biographies, produced an elaborate history of animated 
nature, wrote for the magazines and the “ Public Ledger,” 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


173 


composed essays and scraps of poety, and even laboured 
for the amusement of children. Amongst the rest it is be¬ 
lieved the “ History of Goody Two Shoes ’’ is the product 
of his pen; Mr. Newberry, of St. Paul’s Church Yard, the 
publisher of children’s books, having frequently employed 
him on works for juvenile persons. It is also recorded, 
that while in Dublin, when hard pressed for a few shillings, 
he used to sit down and write some street ballads, for 
which he could always obtain five shillings from the printer 
of “ dying speeches and he would afterwards wander 
about to hear his own productions sung by the street-sing¬ 
ers, whom he generally rewarded if they pleased him by 
their exertions. 

In Green Arbour Court he produced the “ Citizen of the 
World,” and several other productions that introduced him 
to the notice of Johnson, Burke, and many other eminent 
men. He then removed to more respectable lodgings in 
Wine-office court, Fleet-street, but here he became so 
much embarrassed, that he was arrested for a trifling debt, 
and was only relieved by Johnson selling the copyright 
of the “Vicar of Wakefield” to Mr. Newberry for 60/. 
This work had been his consolation and amusement for a 
twelvemonth. He composed it with care, after he finished 
his literary drudgery for the day ; but an unfavourable opi¬ 
nion was entertained of it when first offered to the book¬ 
sellers. Poor Goldsmith had probably many times endea¬ 
voured to dispose of it without success, and it was only the 
favourable opinion of Dr. Johnson, and the peculiar cir¬ 
cumstances of the author, that induced Newberry at last to 
purchase it. He then allowed it to lay by him for two 
years before he printed it; but the publication of “ The 
Traveller” raised the fame of Goldsmith so much, that the 
“ Vicar of Wakefield ” appeared immediately afterwards, 
and was most favourably received. Shortly afterwards he 
produced “ The Deserted Village,” for which he received 
i00/., and being now somewhat improved in circumstances, 
he removed to No. 2, Brick-court, Temple, the most re¬ 
spectable lodgings he had while living in London. His 
thoughtless expenditure and foolish generosity, however, 


174 


COMPANION TO 


involved him in pecuniary difficulties of the most painful 
description ; he struggled against his troubles for a long 
time, till the despondency of his mind brought on a low 
nervous fever, which terminated his life on the 4th of 
April, 1774, at the early age of forty-five. He was buried 
in the Temple Church. 

As an illustration of the character of Goldsmith, and his 
simple yet effective and beautiful style of composition, no¬ 
thing can be more suitable than the following extracts from 
a letter which he addressed to his brother, when about to 
proceed to India in the Company’s service, as before men¬ 
tioned, but which he was prevented doing in consequence 
of not being found qualified. He says, “ I have met with 
no disappointment with respect to my East India voyage, 
nor are my resolutions altered; though at the same time I 
must confess, it gives me some pain to think 1 am almost 
beginning the world at the age of thirty-one. Though I 
never had a day’s sickness since I saw you, yet I am not 
that strong active man you once knew me. You scarcely 
can conceive how much eight years of disappointment, an¬ 
guish, and study, have worn one down. If I remember 
right, you are seven or eight years older than me, yet I 
dare venture to say, that if a stranger saw us both, he 
would pay me the honours of seniority. Imagine to your¬ 
self a pale melancholy visage, with two great wrinkles be¬ 
tween the eye-brows, with an eye disgustingly severe, and 
a big wig, and you may have a perfect picture of my pre¬ 
sent appearance. On the other hand, I conceive you as 
perfectly sleek and healthy, passing many a happy day 
among your own children, or those who knew you a child. 

“ Since I knew what it was to be a man, this is a plea¬ 
sure I have not known. I have passed my days among a 
parcel of cool designing beings, and have contracted all 
their suspicious manner in my own behaviour. I should 
actually be as unfit for the society of my friends at home, 
as I detest that which I am obliged to partake of here. I 
can now neither partake of the pleasure of a revel, nor con¬ 
tribute to raise its jollity. I can neither laugh nor drink ; 
have contracted a hesitating disagreeable manner of speak- 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


175 


ing, and a visage that looks ill-nature itself; in short, I 
have thought myself into a settled melancholy, and an ut¬ 
ter disgust of all that life brings with it.” He continues 
with some advice regarding the education of his brother’s 
son, of which he might well have said, “ May he better reck 
the reed, than ere did the adviser.” He says, without 
much reason, seeing that the most beautiful moral lesson 
conveyed by the “ Vicar of Wakefield,” was in the form of 
a novel, “ Above all things let him never touch a ro¬ 
mance or novel: these paint beauty in colours more charm¬ 
ing than nature, and describe happiness that man never 
tastes. How delusive, how destructive are those pictures 
of consummate bliss! They teach the youthful mind to 
sigh after beauty and happiness which never existed; to 
despise the little good which fortune has mixed in our cup, 
by expecting more than she ever gave ; and in general take 
the word of a man who has seen the world, and has studied 
human nature more by experience than precept. Take 
my word for it, I say, that books teach us very little of the 
world. The greatest merit in a state of poverty would only 
serve to make the possessor ridiculous—may distress, but 
cannot relieve him. Frugality, and even avarice, in the 
lower orders of mankind, are true ambition. These afford 
the only ladder for the poor to rise to preferment. Teach 
then, my dear sir, to your son, thrift and economy. Let 
his poor wandering uncle’s example be placed before his 
eye.” 

The great want of poor Goldsmith was the possession of 
the two qualities he here so strongly recommends, proba¬ 
bly with greater earnestness, because he felt the want 
of them poignantly. He was a man of the most un¬ 
bounded benevolence and generosity ; he would frequently 
expose himself to every kind of inconvenience, and even 
misery, to relieve others ; and the “ cool designing beings” 
with whom he associated, knew his foible, and took a base 
advantage of his weakness. Had he had instilled into his 
mind in early life that generosity to others will never recom- 
pence injustice to ourselves, and had he been blessed with a 
companion whose prudence would have been an antidote to 


176 


WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 


his own excess of thoughtlessness, Goldsmith would have 
been amongst the happiest of the human race. His animal 
spirits supported him under every privation, and when at 
last he lost his cheerfulness, his grave was being made. 

As a writer he is a universal favourite. His genius 
pleases as many varied tastes as it was itself diversified. 
As a poet, a novelist, an essayist, a biographer, or even 
as a compiler from the works of others, he has left behind 
him productions that have never been surpassed. And his 
biography teaches us a moral lesson that we should all do 
well to bear in mind. 

The lives of the other poets who have monuments in the 
Abbey, are not remarkable for any particular circumstances 
that require to be noticed at length. Cowley was a fa¬ 
vourite writer in the time of Charles II., and displayed ex¬ 
traordinary talent in his early years. Beaumont was a 
celebrated dramatic writer, and his productions at one time 
were more esteemed than Shakspeare’s. A curious literary 
partnership existed between him and Fletcher, another dra¬ 
matic writer, and their plays are called by their joint names, 
as it is not known what portions each composed. Phil¬ 
lips, the author of “ The Splendid Shilling,” was a poet 
who produced little else worthy of notice, and of whom 
little is known. Prior was much esteemed at the time he 
lived, in the reign of William and Mary, and many of his 
poems being free from the artificial style so much adopted 
in that age, are still admired. Thomson is well known 
for his beautiful poem on the Seasons, but his life presents 
few incidents of an interesting description. He was remark¬ 
able for great indolence occasionally, which was the most 
prominent trait in his character. Gay is known to old and 
young by his fables ; he was neglected a good deal by his 
friends in power, but his circumstances prevented him feel¬ 
ing many of the miseries that are too often the lot of the 
poet. 


London : Printed at the Holloway Press by D. A. Doudney. 








AUG 16 1902 






I t 










o 



' O' 





<36 ^ V ///aa 

- .v 5 %> %*&£?* <lV %> 

^r %< ' . » ^^**' v^,S l * * s 

St. o’ 5 * iSl,4 







*/r jr *s s 'A^ v <v */r*s s ^ ^ ■’'^j 

V^ G° O s ." ^ ^ r cF. s'**^ 

^ * - 1 - <# 


* : -^o 5 . 

, * o, o " io> o W/^WW “ 

l .4 • oP ^ £■ -A <3 i> _ * 65 d 1 -4 ■Q.l v 

\V <b y 0 * * * # %, J o« ^ A# 

V * ^ * 0 * V * v * 0 » 

^ - r 



* ^ „ 


r ' V* Av 

° z %<ST 

O C$ -> 

* 4? % 


, (4° s .., <** 

<* *P . *. t&Mhk,*' "TL 

* '3'. 41 f'.il/l 6 


^ 0* 



% r \- v “ > ^Svy+P 

'“*'' r!P . , <■*''''»•' 

fP s'” '/, 4S> 


- ^ ^ »,w; ^ ^ 

-4 <3-^ — * £ir y -4 -a.^ _ '* 4 <l^ 

* \V °0> y 0 * X * V$ 9x y o , x ^ \$~ 

^ V V 0 * „ v * 0 



* Y * 0 a - 0 



\^> 

° z 


V. -* ^Ifll^ c cS - 

^ *,^P^ r # ^ % 

^ / * <, S S <* // ■/ ft 6 s 



% ^ 



o c3 - 1 

^ ^ • * . 

•s r v V 

" * S s •* r ' * * * 

Cr <, s * <s^ 

*- \( 



K# c 


c Q,* y 

v> i ' * ® f 'fe, 


A % V °Q, 

V * Y * 0 a ^ V %.' A 



















































■'rt- O 




9? y ° * < * A v ' '*0, 

.% « v Vri". % 


O cS y^U 

* <iV % 

< " '' T'l s' A 0 ^ * 


%0* o 




* o 

_ * ^ & -i or 

9 $, J o . K * -y 

*%> v V 



^0* 


* 
o 

& \ . 

^O ° ' q '^ ^ '4 ' O-, 

/ * ^ * 0 ^ ^ v * * *" 

5> ^ 


c5> -* 


* o: 

<^ **s' A G ' ^ '^TIT^ a 0 ^ x ^ ^r^s - * ,G V 


* n_V ^ * 



c j 

J? ^ 




l> 6 


* <r 









































